


Country Roads, Take Me Home

by Doomkitty25



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Adulting, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Basically all the family :), Blood Curse, Eliot goes home, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Found Family vs Actual family, I mean who are they actually kidding, M/M, Magical family members, Meet the Family, Past Child Abuse, but not really, feelings talk, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-13 18:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doomkitty25/pseuds/Doomkitty25
Summary: Eliot paused his frantic clothing shuffle, looked at Quentin for a moment, and then flung himself onto his bed and wailed, “I have to go back to Indiana.”*Alice is informed that Eliot's Aunt triggered a blood curse that affects the men of his family, and to break it, the Magicians need to go to Indiana.





	1. Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the John Denver song :)

“Quentin, I need you” Eliot whined as he ran into the apartment living room and grabbed Quentin’s arm, pulling him up from the couch with no explanation. The fact that he was running, made Quentin wince and glare even as he brushed the cracker crumbs from his pants and followed Eliot from the room. The man’s wounds were barely healed, he shouldn’t be gesticulating wildly or running about the apartment with his dramatics, he could rupture something.

“Eliot, calm down.” Quentin admonished as they went through the door of Eliot’s room.

“There is absolutely no way I can be calm Coldwater, I am in the middle of a mother fucking crisis.” His eyes were wide and he was frantically tossing clothes out of his closet and onto his bed. Quentin groaned. He’d been here before, Eliot freaking out over what to wear, but he was still just as clueless. And really, Eliot should know better than to ask him for clothing advice. “Eliot. Talk to me.”

Eliot paused his frantic clothing shuffle, looked at Quentin for a moment, and then flung himself onto his bed and wailed, “I have to go back to Indiana.”

Quentin’s eyes went round, his heart skipped and his whole body felt clammy. Eliot in Indiana. Eliot going home. That was like an episode of American Horror Story with a hashtag of #everyone dies #torture slaughter. Quentin sat down near Eliot’s head and ran his hand soothingly through Eliot’s hair. “Why, what’s going on?”

Eliot turned over so he could see Quentin’s face. “My aunt is a magician apparently, and she swears I have a blood curse or some shit. I don’t know. Alice is the one who told me.” Quentin was flabbergasted. Blood curse. Aunt. What the fuck.

Eliot turned his face away and looked out the window at New York’s grey overcast sky. A mantra of fuck, fuck, fuck, Quentin help, fuck, fuck, fuck was all he’d been able to think since he’d gotten off the phone with Alice. She said she’d worked all the details out, he could portal to Indiana, pick up a car, and meet his Aunt Serena at his childhood home tomorrow afternoon. She would provide the details of the curse, and then Alice would help him break it. Also, surprise, you have a family member that can do magic. No big deal.

He hadn’t set foot in his childhood home in more than 10 years, 60 if you counted Fillory, and he was freaking the fuck out. Quentin had picked up petting his hair again, and Eliot was momentarily struck completely dumb by how grateful he was for the man sitting beside him. Here he was months after banishing a monster, putting up with Eliot’s dramatic bullshit. Best. Fucking. Friend. Award. With a huge sigh he sat up in his messy bed and met Quentin’s unruffled stare. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well the first thing you need to do is tell me what it’s going to look like when we get there.” Quentin said, completely glossing over the curse and the magical Aunt. Eliot was too flustered to really focus on the details at the moment, so he’d go interrogate Alice after he was done here.

“We?” Eliot asked confused.

Quentin smiled softly, “If you think either me or Margo is going to let you step foot back in that place without us, you must be fucking dumb. Pretty, but dumb.” He pulled Eliot’s hand into his lap and laced their fingers together.

Eliot frowned, “Stop stealing my lines Coldwater.”

“Stop being dumb and I won’t have to.” Eliot shoved Quentin over, separating their hands and making Quentin laugh.

He sat himself back up right, and asked  “Do they know you’re coming?”

Eliot winced. “Yeah, Alice made me call my mom, I mean Alice wants to come too, so she can meet my Aunt or whatever. They’re expecting me tomorrow at 10. Aunt Serena should be there sometime that afternoon. Mom was...excited, I guess. There will most likely be a barbecue.” Eliot said with a long suffering sigh.

Quentin smiled at his dramatics. “Great, we have plenty of time.”

“Quentin, I don’t think I can do this and stay sane.”

Quentin stood up and turned so he was standing between Eliot’s knees and in his fiercest voice said everything he thought Eliot should hear. “El, they fucking suck, but at the end of the day they’re your family. We play this however you want. But, you have to tell me what you want. What’s the end goal? You want to alienate them entirely so they never speak to you again? You want rainbows and glitter on their front porch every time you come home? You want to remain in civil contact with them, even if you’re not close? Or do you want to burn the place to the ground? You tell me how you want this to go, and we’ll make it happen.”

He looked up at Quentin, so vulnerable and unsure that he felt his body tremble. Remaking himself with Margo will always go down as one of his grandest most challenging achievements. But he was mature and self aware enough to understand that there would always be a little boy inside of him, a small scared little boy, that wanted more than anything in the world for the people he spent his childhood with, to not just accept him, but to actively love him. He was never going to fit in, that was a complete impossibility and not something he wanted, but there was a possibility that they could accept him without changing him and love him as he was. Wasn’t there? Other families did that. H’d wracked his brain, when they were in Fillory, to come up with something that Teddy could do or be that would make him behave like his own parents. And he always just came up blank. He didn’t say any of that to Quentin, just said “I don’t want to burn anything down. I just want….”

“Peace and quiet, easy conversation, and love?” Quentin said softly.

Eliot’s eyes burned, “yeah.”

“Okay then, we can do that.”

“You can’t promise me that Q.” Eliot said with a frown.

Quentin smiled and poked Eliot’s cheek, “You continuously underestimate me Waugh. Watch and see.” Q stepped back and looked around Eliot’s disaster of a room. Eliot rolled his eyes as Quentin dug through his clothes, looking for something it would seem. He made a noise when he found what he was looking for, and threw it at Eliot’s face. “There, wear that.”

Eliot pulled one of his black t-shirts from his face and looked at Quentin in utter  horror. Quentin just grinned his unflappable smile, and Eliot broke down laughing. This man…was going to be the absolute death of him. Quentin came around the bed and picked up the black shirt. “What, it looks nice on you, I like it.” Eliot just continued to laugh and pulled Quentin onto the bed with him, wrapping one of his arms around Quentin’s head, and messing up his hair completely. Quentin wrestled himself out of Eliot’s arms, “ugh you’re the worst.” Quentin sat upright and fixed his hair, shoved Eliot for good measure, and got off the bed.

“Quentin, puppy, those are pajamas. That is not….”Eliot heaved a huge sigh. “What the hell was I thinking, I need Margo. Also if you’re going with, don’t think for a minute that you’re wearing anything I haven’t approved. Also should I date you or Margo, because let's be real, I'm going to need someone to rub in their face.”

Quentin laughed until he was bent over. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at Eliot fondly. “Eliot I will let you put me in anything that will make them think I’m whatever you want them to think I am. Boytoy, boyfriend, husband, 3rd in a throuple, or just a really good friend. I’ll let you decide, and discuss with Margo as I’m almost 100% sure she’s outside your door right now stomping her foot to get in.” Quentin walked towards the door, he turned back right before he opened it, and stared right into Eliot’s grateful eyes. “I’ve got you El, whatever you need from me out of this, you’ve got me, though I do draw the line at spandex. We wouldn’t want a repeat....” Then he opened the door to a grinning Margo with a big “what the fuck” look on her face, she mouthed spandex at him questioningly. Quentin grinned mischievously and shrugged. Then he slid past her and went to find Alice. Magical Aunt Serena, what the fuck.

* * *

 

Quentin heaved a sigh, working his way into a dramatic fit worthy of Eliot. Alice was being super helpful, but at the same time completely unhelpful. Sometime after they’d saved Eliot from the Monster, Eliot had asked if he could tell Margo about the mosaic. Quentin had enthusiastically agreed. It would be nice to have someone else around that would listen to them talk about Ari and Teddy. Quentin hadn’t been there when he told her, but Margo had curled up in bed with Quentin that night and let him cry on her shoulder. She just seemed to know. Alice, on the other hand, knew nothing, and was currently trying to fight him on what Eliot would or would not want him to know.

“I’ll tell Eliot, and if he wants you to know he can tell you himself.” were her last words, and Quentin was familiar with the look on her face. She wasn’t going to budge. He followed behind her as she left her office in the Library, through the portal into the apartment, coming face to face with Eliot and Margo arguing over a pair of shoes.

“No they’ll clash with me, and I am not having my fake boyfriend’s shoes fucking clash with my outfit Margo.”

“But you know how Q gets in fancy shoes, it’s bad enough you’re making him wear a tie. God Eliot, unless you want him to vibrate out of his skin, you’re going to have to concede one thing.”

Alice whipped her head around to look at him questioningly, and all he could do was shrug. She rolled her eyes, and looked back to the room at large. “Eliot, I have more information.”

Eliot whirled around, his manic look from before back and in full bloom. Eliot panic mode. Quentin moved around Alice and quickly made his way to Eliot’s side. He took the shoes from Eliot’s hands, passed them off to Margo and pushed Eliot onto the couch. Quentin dropped down beside him, and Margo, without hesitation, took his other side.

Alice cleared her throat. “Your mother is from a pretty long line of Magicians. Incidentally, the powers have been almost exclusively passed to the female members of your family. Your mother, from what I can tell, completely disappeared from the family registrar around the time she turned 16. Presumably because she didn’t inherit any abilities. Meanwhile, your aunt Serena went to France where your family lineage sort of started.”

“Alice I really don’t need a history lesson, thank you for getting all of the information, but what’s the blood curse. I mean I know I’m not going to unexpectedly drop dead because of it, but what the hell is it.” Eliot asked exasperated. He sort of knew most of what she was saying, minus the magician part. Serena had fucked off to France, and his mom never spoke about her family.

“How do you know you won’t unexpectedly drop dead?”

Eliot rolled his eyes, but looked at Quentin when he said, “I just do.”

Alice looked between them curiously but continued. “It’s not going to kill you, it kills your children.”

Eliot went solidly tense beside him, his body like marble. “What?” He said viciously.

“Any child you um conceive, it will die. Well your family, the men.” Alice said haltingly and apologetically, delivering bad news never came easily to her.

Eliot put his head in his hands. “You mean it really is my fault Fen lost her baby.”

Quentin put his arm around Eliot at the same time Margo did, and they both vehemently denied it. Quentin snapped his attention back to Alice, “Where did the blood curse come from.”

Alice breathed a sigh of relief. “His aunt Serena triggered it in France. Eliot’s mother thought it would only affect the magic branch of the family, but one of your brother’s has a pregnant wife. Your mom contacted your aunt to make sure, and that’s how I found out. Your mom went through an old mage communication channel that the Library monitors.”

“Do you have any leads at all for breaking it?” Quentin asked as Margo whispered in Eliot’s ear.

“Unfortunately not, that’s why I wanted to go meet Eliot’s Aunt. I’m hoping she can shed some light on what actually happened.”

Eliot lifted up, Margo apparently restoring his confidence, and states rather loudly “Drinks. We all need drinks.”


	2. All my memories gather round here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive.

“What in the fucking hell are they actually doing?” Margo said stupefied.

Eliot was lounging in the  passenger seat of the car playing on his phone. Quentin had just pulled into the driveway of Eliot’s childhood home. The blue house was 2 stories with a wrap around porch, and complete Midwestern farmhouse charm. Quentin would never tell Eliot, but he thought it was cute. Outside the house 4 men were standing around drinking beer at 10 in the morning, which Quentin kind of wanted to judge them for but couldn’t really. They had a good bit of distance between them, two on each side, throwing bags at some wooden ramp with a hole in it. He was just as clueless as Margo, and nudged Eliot beside him. Eliot hummed and looked up. “They’re playing cornhole Bambi.” he said absentmindedly and completely distracted by whatever he was reading.

Quentin’s eyes went round and he met Margo’s eyes in the rearview. “You’re telling me that you’re not allowed to be gay, but those fuckers can stand around playing a hacky sack game named after ass fucking.”

Laughter erupted in the car and Eliot wiping tears from his eyes said “Bambi, love, there is a great debate about what came first. The ass fucking or the hacky sacks. But if you love me you’ll keep that little bit of curiosity to yourself. Also don't call them hacky sacks near any of those men, lest you start a riot. They're sensitive about their sport.”

Margo made a deeply disgruntled sound and settled back into the seat, “If you say so.” 

Quentin pulled to a stop beside the house, and tried his best to observe the men out in the field beside the house. They were clearly at ease with one another, and not a single one of them looked like Eliot. Well didn’t that just figure. Eliot was taking measured, counted breaths beside him, and the girls were already out of the car before he’d even touched the handle. Quentin put his hand on his arm, “El, remember what I said. Whatever you need.”

Eliot patted his hand, nodded, and stepped out of the car. He didn’t even slide a glance at the men in the back, just walked single mindedly up to the front door his Italian shoes dusty three steps in. Margo and Alice flanked him, and Quentin brought up the rear. Margo had opted for her badass warrior girl look, complete with black leather jacket and stiletto boots, completely impractical for spring in Indiana, but she was not to be fucked with. Alice wore a pair of black fitted slacks, and an emerald green v neck shirt that Margo declared “fucking delightful” when she had arrived at the apartment.

Eliot put Quentin in what Quentin privately thought of as his Superman disguise. It was just a white button down, grey slacks, and a royal blue tie, but he wasn’t uncomfortable and Eliot had looked at him approvingly before exiting the apartment. Eliot, on the other hand was every single inch the dignified gentleman of fancy. He wore a navy blue pair of slacks that hugged his perfect ass like a glove, a plum colored shirt, a vest that leaned lavender with a beautiful filigree pattern, and a tailored navy blue jacket. His tie was made out of some sort of blue lace, Quentin had no idea, but he looked fucking delicious and he smelled. God Quentin had wanted to lean over in his seat and just bury his face in Eliot’s neck, he smelled divine like the woods and tobacco with the sharp scent of citrus. It was Quentin’s favorite smell on him, and it had driven him to distraction the entirety of the hour long drive.

Quentin reached the top step just as a woman that was clearly Eliot’s mother opened the door. She was tall, slender, and had black hair with streaks of grey falling in riotous curls to her waist. Hazel eyes and Eliot’s nose looked out at him, and Quentin had to take in a breath. A part of him had thought, nothing here would match. That Eliot would just be a puzzle piece that didn’t fit, but looking at his mother, he was dead wrong. “Please come inside.”

They all stepped inside, and she led them to a large living room where she had lemonade ready to be poured. She gestured for them to sit, so they all sat together on the couch, Quentin shifting until Eliot got the hint and sat between him and Margo. Eliot’s mother settled into a chair across from them and took what Quentin would call a calming breath. “I’m sorry you had to come back Eliot.” 

“Yes well, needs must. Have you spoken with Aunt Serena.” Eliot’s deep voice was barely above a whisper, but his mother had no trouble hearing him. Quentin watched them both wide eyed and he was loathe to admit, fascinated. He’d heard of course, that stoicism in the Midwest was like a thing, and he’d seen Eliot do stuff like this before, but it was like watching a mirror as the two slowly sized each other up and consciously decided to reveal nothing. Quentin looked at Margo questioningly. She just looked back with her “what the fuck” face.

“Not since yesterday. I’m Harper by the way, would anyone like some lemonade?” She said casually as she reached for the lemonade pitcher and one of the glasses on the coffee table. She clearly wasn't at ease, but she wanted to keep up appearances.

“Alice, Quentin, and Margo and not for me.” Eliot said politely gesturing his hand at each of them as he said their names.

Margo glanced between the two and blew out a frustrated breath. “Eliot. Kitchen. Now. Excuse us Harper.” Margo stood up and pulled Eliot out of the room. Quentin watched Mrs. Waugh watch her son, and the minute he wasn’t looking at her the mask slipped. He sort of expected it, but watching her eyes glaze with tears and then clear as she fought whatever emotional turmoil she was in, tugged every heartstring Quentin had. He knew Eliot had been through hell, and he knew that this woman had a part to play in that, but it didn’t stop him from feeling heartsick over it. She carefully pulled herself together, and turned back to Alice and Quentin.

“Are you the young woman that I spoke with?” 

Alice nodded, “Yes that was me. Did you get a chance to draw each of your children’s blood?” The sharpness in Alice’s tone slid off of Mrs. Waugh like water, she simply nodded and brought a small wooden box onto the table. Inside the box sat 4 vials of blood. 

Quentin frowned. “I thought you only had 3 sons, plus Eliot. Why are there four vials?” He wondered if the other man outside was a step brother or something.

Harper looked him over, but answered him even though she clearly thought the question stupid, “it’s mine. Just in case you need it, better to get it out of the way now.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, then folded her hands on her knees. Quentin couldn’t help but see a lady, a pure bred, classic Audrey Hepburn like lady with wild curly hair. She wore what Quentin’s mother would have called a church dress. A black tailored dress that fell to her knees. All she needed was a set of pearls.

A part of him wanted to dissect this woman, take her apart piece by piece, so he could understand just what the fuck she’d been thinking, or why the fuck she’d allowed what happened to Eliot to happen. She just didn’t come across as a woman who would let a man hit her children. In fact, from his brief impression, she looked like she’d eviscerate someone that looked at her kids sideways. It didn’t track. He’d watched Eliot turn into a demon when Ted had rubbed one of the local Fillorian farmers the wrong way. He’d slapped Teddy, hadn’t even left a mark, but Eliot had fucking come unglued. Quentin had to step in because he was pretty sure Eliot had been about to snap the man’s neck.

Quentin continued to examine her, when he heard a door in the house slam and heavy footsteps treading on the hardwood floor.

**

Eliot followed Margo into the kitchen, not really sure what was going on. Nothing had happened, his mom had greeted them, lemonade had been offered, polite behavior all around. 

She shoved Eliot up against the counter in the kitchen where he’d eaten bowls of cereal every morning for breakfast throughout most of his childhood. His mom had taken down most of the kitsch that used to be on the walls, and painted the room white, but otherwise it was mostly the same. Margo looked at him intently, and he was usually pretty good at parsing whatever was going on in her mind, but he was drawing a pretty hard blank. “Bambi what’s wrong?”

She frowned, her full lips thinning out, “I just needed a minute.” Then she shoved herself into his arms, her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and she smushed her face into his chest. Their height difference making this kind of hug awkward, but she honestly didn’t care. “I know you need to do this to protect yourself, but watching your face in there just made me need to hold you for a minute. Fuck this was a terrible idea.”

Eliot let out a huff of air. “You honestly don’t need to worry. My father is dead, and the rest of my family will be intensely polite and overly fake. There won’t be any yelling or dramatics. After all, we’re company. We just need to make nice until Serena gets here.” Eliot ran his hands down her back, trying to soothe her worry out of her, and was so distracted by her that he didn’t hear his brothers coming in the back of the house through the kitchen door. Fuck he thought silently, emotionally unstable Margo, and his brothers. This could turn into a shit show.

His oldest brother, Cooper, cleared his throat when he stepped into the kitchen, and Margo loosed her arms a bit so she could turn around and get a look. Eliot couldn’t see her frown, but he knew exactly what expression she had on her face. Margo the destroyer was sizing up her enemy. Eliot tried to head it off, by squeezing her, “Bambi, settle.” He said quietly so his brothers wouldn’t hear, but she was having none of it. 

Cooper was about 6’2, just as tall as Eliot, but broad like the quarterback he’d been in high school. He had sandy blonde hair, and all american blue eyes. He was Captain fucking America in the flesh and demon spawn to his soul, Eliot had always thought. 

Jasper stood to Coopers left, hair a little darker but same blue eyes, the shortest of them all he just barely reached 6 foot. Jasper had a scar on his right cheek, and Eliot found himself curious about how he’d gotten it, which surprised the hell out of him. He hadn’t thought he’d be curious about them at all. Jasper had the same football player build, he was just stocky as hell, and he was short compared to his brothers. 

And finally, there was Noah. Noah was the basketball player in the family. Just a year older than Eliot, he had inherited the slender frame, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Hoosier down to his toes, he hadn’t changed at all. He was like the blonde copy of Eliot, and Eliot had always wondered how two people who looked so similar could be so completely different.

The fourth man wasn’t a brother, he was a childhood friend, and Eliot frowned a bit at his presence. What the hell was Brandon doing here? He fit in with the Waugh boys, tall and blonde, he’d played football with Cooper and they’d roomed together in college. They’d been best friends since before Eliot could even remember, but having him here when Eliot was expected to be home seemed odd.

Margo twitched in his arms and he squeezed her, “Down Arya.” She looked up at him and glared clearly not happy. Eliot ran another soothing hand down her back. “Cooper’s the one in the middle, Jasper is to his left, Noah to his right, and the other one isn’t a brother. His name is Brandon. Boys this is Margo.” He turned her lose so she could turn around and winced hoping she’d control herself. Cooper stepped forward, like he might hold out his hand to shake, but the look on Margo’s face made his hand drop right back to his side. The other guys didn’t even budge. 

Honestly Eliot should just know better by now, they’d been here all of half an hour and Margo was vibrating at the seems. Quentin, he needed Quentin, but if he called out for him Margo would be insulted, and it would probably make the blow up that was about to happen 10 times worse, but there was also a chance Quentin would just pet her into submission. He was magic like that. Protective Bambi was a banshee, and Quentin was one of the few people she would let in her space these days. Post-Monster, Quentin had a hold on Margo that was unlike anything Eliot had ever seen. He loved every minute of it.

“What a pleasure it is to meet such a worthless group of assholes. I mean, do they even have dicks El?" She grinned her High Queen bitch smile, and put her hand on her hip in an exaggerated contrapposto. "How exactly did your mom get 3 useless motherfuckers, and your beautiful ass out of the same man’s dick.”

Eliot didn’t even let his eyes go wide, he just dropped his forehead into his hands and bit the bullet. “Quentin” he called out knowing he’d be able to hear him from the living room. Margo swung around. 

“Eliot, don’t you fucking dare.” He stared into her eyes and cocked a brow. She tilted her head, slanted her eyes, and said “I will plant my Jimmy Choo so far up.”

“Okay Margo,” Quentin interrupted her as he came into the kitchen. He walked up to Eliot, placed his hand on the back of his neck to use as leverage, and he lifted up on his toes kissing El lightly. He dropped back down, and turned to face Margo. He grinned and wrapped his arms around Margo’s waist and arms trapping her, and resting his head on her shoulder.

“Q, get the fuck off of me.” She shoved him, but he didn’t budge. His octopus arms hanging on for dear life. “I mean it, Coldwater, get the fuck off.” Exasperation was creeping into her tone.

He leaned back a bit and looked at her with his puppy face, and Eliot grinned for the whole room to see. Margo huffed, then she puffed, then she breathed a sigh of pure frustration. “Goddamnit puppy. Ugh, I fucking hate you.” She groaned and shoved Quentin at Eliot. “You motherfuckers deserve each other.” Quentin fell back into Eliot with a satisfied grin that could light up the world. Eliot wrapped an arm around his waist from behind, and kissed the top of his head. Margo turned sharply on her black spiked heels, gave his brothers a withering glare, and stormed back into the living room.

All four of them, Eliot noticed, shifted slightly, and Eliot knew they were resisting the urge to protect their dicks. Good instincts he thought with a feral grin. Cooper took a deep breath, “Eliot, I don’t know what...”

Eliot waved his hand interrupting him. “Think nothing of it. My Bambi is just a little sensitive to the current situation.” Eliot did the introductions again, so Quentin would know who was who. Quentin was polite enough to reach out and shake each of their hands, gently tucking his hair behind his ears before he stepped forward. Cooper went first, and Eliot had to hold back his instinct to yank Quentin back into his side. They weren’t children anymore, but Cooper had left enough bruises on Eliot as a child, that it made Eliot want to keep Q as far out of Cooper’s hands as possible. But Cooper surprised him, he shook Quentin’s hand gently and didn’t use his frame to intimidate at all. In fact, he relaxed his whole body at Quentin’s approach, and he was almost comforting in a way. 

Jasper grinned his goofball grin, he’d always been a comedian, and shook Quentin’s hand vigorously a ridiculous smile on his face. Noah was more reserved, but still polite, while Brandon was just curious. “Who was that woman?”

Quentin stood before the 4 men, all of them towering over his 5 foot 8 inches, and shrugged. “El’s best friend.” Before he could turn away and go back to Eliot, Cooper asked “And who are you?” Quentin smiled that beatific smile and Eliot thanked every divine entity alive that the Monster hadn’t completely obliterated his ability to do so, and said brightly, “El’s boyfriend.” 

They all nodded in sync, like they expected that answer, which was weird as fuck. But otherwise remained silent. Eliot was confused. He didn’t actually expect them to comment, but he couldn’t deny that this was just weird. Quentin made his way back over to Eliot and glanced at him questioningly. Eliot had no idea, and just shook his head. Maybe they were under strict orders to behave. He really had no idea. “We should go check on Alice.” Fake dating Quentin wasn't really the goal of this visit, he just didn't want the questions that polite company would ask about your relationship situation when they ran out of weather related topics.

Cooper nodded in agreement with Eliot. “I guess we should wait for Aunt Serena in the living room. If you think your friends can...”

Eliot moved his head to the side interrupting Cooper once again, “Maintain, their civility?” He hummed, and asked “Quentin, how’s Alice?”

“Slightly exasperated, but not murderous.”

“Excellent, let’s go see how long it takes them to get on her nerves.”

“I thought you didn’t want to burn the place to the ground.” Quentin said in a whisper as they walked the short distance to the other room, he was slightly confused. He knew Eliot wasn’t completely serious, but the looks on his brother’s face’s were ranging from horror to exasperation.

“Well I don’t, I never said I didn’t want to enjoy the show.” Eliot said with a sinister grin.

**

Quentin breathed a huge sigh of relief as he felt the magic of a portal brush against his skin. They were all in the living room, talking about the fucking weather, and doing their best to be polite. It was kind of torture. Eliot wasn’t speaking, Margo was furiously texting Fen and Josh, and he and Alice were making fucking small talk. This was the absolute worst. Eliot had griped his hand in a vice about 20 minutes before and hadn’t moved a muscle since.

The door blew open and Quentin turned around, his jaw dropped and he could feel the surprised look on everyone else’s faces. Standing in the door was Eliot’s mother’s twin. No one had said they were twins. She was a carbon copy in face only though. She wore the most vibrant red gown he’d ever seen, it was short in the front so you could see her wicked fucking black shoes. Her black hair was put up in some complicated style that he knew Margo would immediately appreciate, and she wore red lipstick with black eyeliner. 

Aunt Serena was a fucking vamp of a woman. She commanded the room when she walked through the door, she commanded the air they were breathing. Everyone in the room stood as she approached confident and cocksure. Eliot grinned just a little, dazzled by the sight of her. “Serena Madrigal. It is a pleasure to meet you your Highness.” Her voice was deep like Eliot’s and she bowed low before Margo. 

Margo looked to Eliot confused, but he shrugged, having no idea. Serena turned to Quentin next, “You must be Quentin. The French hedges send their regards for obliterating the god’s mistake into the seam.” She bowed to him as well. 

“And Alice, you’re making some revolutionary changes at the Library. We all thank you for your dedication to excellence.” Alice graciously accepted the praise, but looked just as confused as everyone else in the room.

She finally turned to Eliot. Quentin was struck by just how beautiful this woman was, and just how striking Eliot looked beside her. “My gorgeous boy. You have Madrigal written all over you." Then her voice turned sharp and ferocious. "Harper, if you weren’t blood I’d tear your heart out of your chest for the goddamn tragedy you engineered.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not taking anything from the show about the family, this is entirely AU. The only thing specifically I'm sticking to is that Eliot is from Indiana.  
> 1st - Cooper  
> 2nd-Jasper  
> 3rd-Noah  
> 4th-Eliot  
> Also Cornhole is a legitimate game, for those of you wondering, there are leagues and everything.


	3. Dark and Dusty, Painted on the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a couple of chapters. I just kept getting these ideas for scenes in my head, and it kept getting longer. I think I have it pretty well worked out now :)

“Eliot, darling, I need a drink.” Serena said from where she had perched herself in the only other available chair in the room after throwing that very pointed threat at his mother.

Eliot cocked a brow at her, but pushed himself away from the wall where he’d been leaning. There was a pretty impressive liquor cabinet in the main room, so he stepped over to it and said “Something spicy, or would you prefer to make a statement?”

Serena laughed, “Oh definitely a statement, sweet.”

Eliot chuckled, and started pulling ingredients and glasses from the little bureau while subtly marking the room. Surprisingly, he wasn’t feeling overwhelmed by being in the room with his family. Most of that he put on Quentin and Margo, if he’d been here alone there was every chance he would have had multiple breakdowns already. His brothers were being weird, 10 years had changed them in ways Eliot wasn’t quite sure he comprehended just yet. And then there was his mother, she was different too, an awareness of reality hung around her that had been absent when he was a child.

Serena had visited several times over the past month, so his brothers had been given the short version of magic being real and that they were currently cursed by some sort of blood magic. She was giving Alice the summary of it all, and Eliot had to smile at her theatrical way of relating the events. Eliot was a little disappointed he wasn’t present for the big reveal, he imagined it was probably hilarious. Also he still hadn’t managed to figure out just what the fuck Brandon was doing here. Shaking off the distraction of wondering about his brothers, he finished up Serena’s blood red glowing drink, and passed it to her with a bow and mischievous smile.

“Your reputation precedes you darling, this is delicious.” Her lipstick matched her drink, and Eliot nodded satisfied.

Quentin stood up from the couch and Eliot looked at him quizzically, Quentin just tilted his head at the bar, and Eliot motioned for him to sit again. He went back to the bureau and poured Quentin a glass of wine, Bambi a scotch on the rocks, and mixed up a martini for Alice. Placing all three drinks on a tray he brought them over and passed them out.

“So are you like a bartender in magic world or whatever?” Noah said from the far side of the room where he’d picked a section of the wall to lean against. Almost mirroring Eliot actually. Noah was as tall as Eliot, but he wore basketball shorts of all things and a t-shirt that was just the slightest bit too short. Brandon was sitting in a chair beside him, and Eliot shot a confused glance at him again. Seriously, what the fuck.

Serena burst out laughing at the question. “Hardly dear boy. Your brother just has a talent for mixology.”

Eliot shrugged, and made his way back over to the window eschewing any drink for himself. Sure that it’d lead to thoughts he didn’t want to deal with. “True enough. Though I wonder how you know that.” He said as he watched Jasper walk over and grab beers for everyone else, pass them out, and give Eliot a judgy as hell look. Eliot just sneered. Manners be damned.

Serena smiled mysteriously and then straightened herself up with her glowing red drink in hand, declared loudly “Everyone gather around. Your Aunt Serena has a story to tell. I’m sure you’re all wondering why I gathered my entire family in one place. Well since half of them haven’t seen a shred of magic in their lives, and one of them could probably murder every one of you with a single well placed flick of his wrist, and frankly the only thing stopping him is the puppy on the couch.” 

Eliot watched Quentin sputter. “That’s not true. Eliot wouldn’t.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Q, she’s teasing. Shall we get on with it, my patience is still surprisingly intact, but I can’t predict how much longer that will be the case.” Eliot couldn’t deny the slow burning simmer of rage that he couldn’t quite shake off, but he was in control. 

“Now that everyone is here, Harper why don’t you explain how the blood curse happened.” Serena said with a sharp edge to her voice.

“But I thought you were the one?” Alice questioned with her confused voice.

“Yes well, to be honest I wasn’t entirely certain we’d be able to convince Eliot to show up if he knew his own mother was responsible for the blood curse. What with his wife having lost her child. There was every chance he could have decided that carrying on the blood line was simply not worth it. The little fib was meant to be a draw.” Eliot tensed. He noticed the surprised looks his brother's shot between themselves. They didn't know anything about Fen it would seem but, Serena did. Eliot suspected Fogg.

“And is it the only thing you’ve lied about?” Eliot asked in what Quentin called his  _ do not fuck with me I am dangerous _ voice. His face went sharp as he stared down his aunt. Eliot didn’t see it, but Cooper went tense and shifted like he was going to rise up off the love seat where he sat beside Jasper. Jasper just frowned, but Eliot’s behavior didn’t seem to bother him. Noah gripped Brandon's shoulder, but otherwise didn't move from his slouch against the wall.

Serena acknowledged Eliot’s power with a slight tilt of her head. She knew who she was dealing with, and that disconcerted Eliot to some degree. He knew he was a walking weapon, rarely was anyone else aware of that until he wanted them to be. “Yes, it’s the only thing I’ve lied about.” Serena said, and Eliot couldn’t help but believe her. She was just so forthright. A lot like Margo actually. His mother shifted in her chair and let out a little unhappy sigh. He turned his attention to her and gave her an expectant look.

Harper took a fortifying breath and began her ladylike voice a complete contrast to Serena’s sharp vivacious voice. “Serena and I grew up in New York, and she came into her power when I was around 12.” Eliot’s face screwed into a frown. What did her childhood have to do with a blood curse. “That came with complications, because I was the first girl in our family in well over 6 generations that was born without magic.” Eliot felt the weight of the memory on her, it was like a physical weight she was carrying around, and Eliot almost….like a tiny amount almost...felt sorry for her. “I met Charles about 3 years later at an event our mother hosted. By that point I’d already decided I wanted to get out, I just didn’t know how I was going to do it.”

She took a deep breath, looked into her sister’s eyes and fiercely stated “He was my dealer for about 10 years off and on.” Eliot wasn’t really that surprised, but he watched his brother’s faces go tight and Cooper’s jaw tighten to the point Eliot worried he might actually see blood come from the mans mouth. “Magic is and has always been anathema to me. Serena had it and I didn’t and I ran away to the country to get away from it all. I met your father, and I married George thinking I could leave it all behind me you know.”

She rubbed a hand across her brow. “And probably that would have been the case if I’d married someone other than your father or if I’d been stronger.” She adjusted her posture and turned to Cooper. “I was clean after I met him, and I stayed clean probably for 8 years or so, but I went to a party in the city and I ran into Charles, and I started again. Things had happened, and I’ve never been the best with dealing in reality, so Charles offered and I didn’t say no.” 

Eliot could hear the bone deep shame, and the part of him that wanted to hate her flared to life. Was there any pity in his soul for her? His eyes sought Quentin’s, because he was drowning, slipping into an ocean of pain. Was this an excuse he could accept for her behavior when he was a child? Or was this some way to deflect responsibility? He’d known somewhere deep inside that she had a problem, but to be completely honest, he’d thought it was depression. This could potentially change every moment he remembered with her, from when he was a kid. And what was that going to do to him? He knew his thoughts were selfish, but he just couldn’t find the bandwidth to feel any kind of compassion at the moment. Which sucked because he’d been in her shoes, and he knew how fucking difficult it was to walk away from the power of numbness.

Quentin was frowning in sympathy, but Eliot couldn’t figure out how he felt. Q seemed to understand and pushed up from the couch to come stand beside him. He didn’t touch him, knowing that Eliot wouldn’t welcome the weight just yet, he just stood beside him silently offering his shoulder if El needed it.

Cooper didn’t seem to have the same conflict Eliot did.  “So the blood curse is a drug deal gone wrong then?”

At Cooper’s words, Serena stiffened. “Oh honey, no. Blood curses require sacrifice to enact. You’re not going to find a two bit drug dealer willing to sacrifice his life for a little curse. The circumstances alone were probably too complex for his tiny fucking mind.”

“Then what the hell?” Jasper said from beside Cooper.

Harper grimaced, and Eliot noticed tears in her eyes. “After your father died I went to Charles for drugs, and we were at a party. There was a boy there, underage, 16 at most.” A tear fell down her face. “He overdosed, and his father was a magician. I don’t know how he knew I was there, I never interacted with the boy, but that hardly matters. And honestly, I don’t blame him. His wife had died several months before, and his son was not taking it well. After he died, the man didn’t really care if he lived or died, and used his life to cast the blood curse on everyone at the party. It took him several years to gather all of the ingredients. I've been clean for well over 5 years, but the minute the blood curse was activated, I knew.” By the time she finished, Harper had tears falling freely on her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away.

The weight of understanding fell over the room. Eliot finally pulled Quentin into his arms for a much needed hug. “Well Fuck.” He couldn’t help but say. Margo and Alice just looked at one another, everyone else just remained eerily quiet.

Serena interrupted the heavy cloud of silence with her brash no nonsense attitude. “Now that everyone knows the gory details, I’m sure you’ve guessed that breaking this spell is going to be no easy task.”

Alice sat up straighter, and Margo leaned in. “You know how though?”

Serena frowned. “Yes, the Madrigal library is almost as extensive as Brakebill’s, and Henry’s always been cordial if I needed a reference. In this case, it’s definitely cooperative, and it would help considerably if we had 4 magical Madrigal’s, but I think we can sub in Quentin and Margo just fine. Eliot loves them dearly.” She said all of this as she pulled pages from the air and placed them on the coffee table. Alice snatched them up as they fell down, and began studying in her intense way.

Eliot kind of wanted a break. He wanted to get away from all of these people, and he wanted to just sit by himself in a room and drift. Shit. Feeling like this never led anywhere good.

Quentin seemingly able to sense his need for distraction, pulled away from him and looked up. “If everyone is going to eat here tonight, we should probably get started on the food. Eliot why don’t you go see what’s in the Kitchen. Alice and I can go over the spell at the Kitchen table, everyone else, do whatever you need to do. We’ll let you know if we need anything.” With that he pushed Eliot towards the kitchen.

**

Eliot was shucking and washing corn when Cooper came into the kitchen. Eliot just stared at him expectantly. He’d been waiting. This was bound to happen. A part of him was antsy with anticipation, another part was shivering with anxiety because the outcome of this conversation would set the tone. Cooper was never one for beating around the bush, so he just said in his very stoic way “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” The head of the family had spoken Eliot thought waspishly.

Eliot tensed but schooled himself and shrugged off the unease. “Lead the way.” He followed his brother out to the back porch and watched as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Eliot declined the offer with a shake of his head and his brother raised a brow at him. Eliot sighed, “I quit, Quentin was rather insistent.”

Cooper sighed. “I really should, gives the kids a bad impression” At Eliot’s blank look, Cooper grinned. “I teach high school English.” Eliot kept the horrified look off of his face, but only just barely. It seems he shouldn’t have even bothered, because Cooper just laughed. “So this is pretty fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Eliot replied, short and not really sure if he wanted to be out here, looking for an anchor to keep him from losing it. Wrapping his arms around his stomach to help settle his anxiety. 

“You know it didn’t surprise me at all when Aunt Serena said you were magic. It suits you.” Cooper said haltingly. Smoke billowing out between the two of them.

Eliot frowned, patience was never his strong suit, and after the days revelations he was losing his ability to compartmentalize. “Cooper what exactly do you want?”

Cooper sighed, stubbed his cigarette out and put it on the railing of the porch. “So I’ve been thinking about this for the past few months. Well since Serena blew into the house anyway. I honestly thought I’d never see you again. I tried to find you a few years ago, but you fell off the fucking map.” He moved around restlessly, bit his lip, and said haltingly. “I’ve been thinking how exactly do you apologize to your baby brother for being a colossal piece of shit while you were growing up? How do you apologize for not protecting him from his fucking degenerate father? How do you ask him to forgive you for fucking off to college and not coming back, and leaving the rest of you to deal with our useless parents?”

Fuck thought Eliot. Motherfucking Fuck. Blinking his eyes to fight against the burn, he drew in a steadying breath. He hadn’t been anyone’s baby brother for more than 10 years. Nails digging into his palms he fought the urge to let his rage lose, shaking, goose bumps on his arms, hair electrified with his power, he breathed through the surge of emotion. Then he walked away. “I need a minute,” he said savagely. Three steps in, two breaths later, he had his magic under control. Another breath and he turned to face his brother, making his way back to his side. “My apologies, please continue.” Eliot said in his best High King of Fillory tone.

Cooper had leaned against the railing, his hands resting on the wood. He was tense and pushed himself back a bit, running a hand across his head, messing up his hair, he stared intently at the barn behind the house. Eliot had his back to the field, leaning backwards against the railing. He could see into the kitchen, Alice and Quentin bent over the kitchen table, arguing about the spell. The sight of Quentin was all he really needed to anchor him. Not having anything more to say, he waited Cooper out.

“I realize that the impression you have of me is one from more than 10 years ago. I mean I hadn’t been home since you were 13 or 14. When I turned 18, I left and I didn’t come back. I’m 32 and I haven’t seen you since you were just barely a teenager, so I don’t know you anymore. You don’t know me. I thought maybe if I apologized for being a piece of shit, maybe that would be a start, and that would be...” He trailed off, looking up at Eliot. 

Eliot didn’t look down at him at first. He stared at Quentin. Quentin who was his family. Quentin who held his hand through every major crisis of his life in the past 4 years. Quentin who had told him he didn’t have to do this if he didn’t want to. But he sighed. He’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t at least try. 10 years was a long time, and there was every chance the asshole he grew up with had changed; changed enough to be worth knowing. You didn’t get to pick your parents at birth, and maybe he’d become something more the longer he’d been away. Quentin had been a catalyst that helped Eliot change into a better person, so if he could do it then really anyone could. He decided he’d match his brother’s bravery with a little of his own. He looked down at him and shrugged. “Yeah okay.”

Cooper let out the breath he’d been holding and stood up abruptly, turned and jerked Eliot into a hug. One arm around his neck, one arm around his waist, he pulled him into a suffocating embrace. Eliot was shocked. It’d been a helluva long time since he’d hugged someone his own height, much less someone who so completely dwarfed him in size and width. Cooper ignored how tense Eliot had gone and just held on, turning his head so his cheek rested against Eliot’s he said fiercely “I am so fucking sorry for every shitty thing I ever did to you.” Eliot relaxed slightly and hugged him back, he turned his own head so it was resting on Cooper’s shoulder, glanced into the kitchen and almost burst out laughing. Quentin had his hand over his mouth, watching them through the window, tears in his eyes. Sap, thy name is Quentin Coldwater he thought. He waved through the window like the little dork he was, grinning ear to ear, and turned back to Alice.

Eliot was struggling with the emotions bubbling through him, and his knee jerk response was anger. God he wanted to be angry, but he also knew that lashing out wouldn’t lead to anything productive. It was a fucking miracle that Cooper could hug him, and Eliot didn’t cringe away from him. Family was weird. “I accept your apology, but I don’t know if that’s going to be enough Cooper. I’d like to say it would, but I don’t know.”

Cooper released him and stepped back. “Fair. I just needed you to know.” They both turned to look at the barn, Eliot felt safe enough that he didn’t need Quentin in his direct line of sight.

“I should probably get back into the kitchen before something burns.” He turned to walk inside, but before he could open the screen door to the kitchen he looked back at Cooper and asked “Why the fuck is Brandon here?”

Cooper laughed but shrugged off the question and went back inside. Eliot stared after him confused as fuck.

**

They all sat around the dinner table quiet and subdued. This was nothing like a dinner at the apartment or even in Fillory, no one had thrown anything yet and no one had been slapped. It was a little underwhelming. Probably if Serena had been at the table, things would have at least been engaging, but she’d taken one of the spare rooms for a nap, citing the time difference between Indiana and France. Eliot didn’t begrudge her.

Eliot watched Quentin look at him nervously for about the tenth time since they’d filled their plates and finally huffed out a sigh. “What is it Q?” Everyone at the table turned to him expectantly.

Quentin winced, then glared at Eliot for bringing all of the attention on him. “Um well, Alice and I worked out the circumstances a bit more. You um need to be here. All of your brothers. And um it has to be done on a waning crescent with a few weather factors in place. And we need…”

Eliot cut him off and said expectantly, “Quentin.”

“Um it means we should probably stay here for a couple of days before we do the spell. Alice seems pretty certain anyway, and there’s just a higher probability of it working if we...stay.”

Eliot groaned. He knew it, somewhere in his bones he knew he was going to have to sleep in his childhood bedroom, it was like karma didn’t want to just surround him with his past it wanted to fucking drown him in it.

“Your old room still has a bed in it. But I don’t think there’s anything here that will fit you.” Harper stated quietly as she made her way to the sink to put her plate away. “It’s still in the same place, I think I’m going to go to bed, good night everyone.” She barely looked up from her plate since Cooper had filled it for her, and as she made her way out of the room Eliot couldn’t deny he was slightly worried. Eliot had made baked chicken, creamed corn, and salad knowing she liked all three, but she’d barely touched any of it. Taking in her words he sighed. 

Eliot’s expression said everything, he absolutely was not wearing anything but his own clothes. Margo piped up, “I can go back to the apartment and pack a couple of bags, and be here in the morning. We don’t have a portal directly here, but you shouldn’t need the car.”

“What about pajamas.” Quentin asked, and Eliot wanted to smack him and slam his own head into the table. In what universe did he think Margo wouldn’t make a comment. “Seriously Quentin” he said under his breath.

“Oh baby Q, you can’t tell me Eliot doesn’t strip you the minute you cross the threshold. I mean I have heard you.” Margo said with a Cheshire cat smile. “We all live in the same apartment baby and you’re loud.” knowing Quentin couldn’t deny it because of their “fake” relationship. Eliot felt laughter welling up, but tried to control himself for Quentin’s sake. Interestingly enough his brother’s barely looked up from their food at her words. Interesting indeed. Where was the systematic homophobia from his youth, he wondered.

Alice had no such reservations, and  laughed outright. “Honestly Quentin, you’ve always slept naked, has Eliot made you shy?” she teased.

Quentin pouted at all of them. “Seriously, how are you people even my friends.”

“Hmm because we’ve all fucked you.” Margo said wickedly.

Eliot could no longer control himself, and burst out laughing, then he just couldn’t stop. Quentin was fire engine red, frowning furiously at everyone, and his brothers were staring at the girls with wide eyed shock. Bisexuality got their attention, but talking about gay sex hadn’t registered. Eliot was intrigued.

“Way to air our dirty laundry Bambi.” Eliot smirked as he got his laughter under control.

“I feel compelled to ask for a rating. Like if you’ve fucked all of them who was the best.” Jasper piped in, his smiley face tilted to the side. 

Quentin covered his hot face in his hands, “Oh my god you all suck. Stop it.”

“Oh no we’re invested now Q, score card it out, 1 to 5, who rocked your world.” Margo declared.

“Margo, you suck. I don’t even remember it, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” Quentin was deflecting like a motherfucker, and Alice was politely trying to cover her giggles.

“Also, he hasn’t fucked everyone at the table, so that's hardly fair.” Noah said quietly, Quentin whipped his head around to stare at Noah with his big thankful puppy eyes. To which Noah apparently felt compelled to tack on, “You should leave him alone, I”m pretty sure his face is going to be stuck like that if you don’t.”

“But this is my favorite Quentin!” Margo declared.

Quentin laughed. “Enough I swear you’re worse than a two year old sometimes.” Margo started to say something else, but Quentin was done. “I’ll call in a favor and have Josh stop making those stupid pink cookies you like so much for the next 6 months. Every period. No cookies. And my favor is a life favor, the magic of Fillory would compel him.”

Margo gasped in utter betrayal. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Quentin raised a brow at her, his expression clearly saying “Try me.”

Eliot laughed. “Checkmate Bambi.”

She sniffed but conceded the field. “Alright, point goes to you Coldwater. Well played.” 

Quentin and Eliot’s laughter echoed in the room.


	4. Misty Taste of Moonshine, Teardrop in my Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of conversation, not a lot of plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really tried my best to edit this, but I know I missed some stuff. Sorry :( <3

Eliot entered his childhood room with a ball of trepidation sitting in his stomach, doing his best to push back everything he’d learned today. Processing wasn’t something he had ever done gracefully, and no matter how often metaphorical piles of shit were dropped on him, he could never quite get the hang of letting it all fall away. Watching Margo leave the house had felt like abandonment, watching Quentin hug Alice had made him cringe on the inside, and everything happening with his family was rolling his insides up into knots. Feelings were happening, he wasn't sure he could sort out what they were, he absolutely felt like 100% shit though as he surveyed the room.

Quentin was in the bathroom and would be right behind him. White walls, gauzy curtains, a dresser, and a queen size bed were the only things in the room. It wasn’t like his mom left any of his things behind in the room for him to agonize over, but all he had to do was close his eyes and he could see exactly how it had looked when he was a child. Three very deep breaths later, he started to undress. Folding his clothes as neatly as he could and wincing at the mistreatment, he sat them on the dresser, and crawled into bed. Quentin chose that moment to trip inside the room.

“Eliot, she has little soaps shaped like flowers in the bathroom. It’s like the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Has she always had those?” Quentin gushed as he struggled to get his tie over his head. He’d already pulled his shirt out of his pants, and looked like a little disheveled monkey. Eliot couldn’t stop the fond smile that took over his face. Quentin didn’t bother to fold his clothes, just dropped them on the floor and fell into the bed with seemingly no grace.

Pulling the covers over both of them Eliot settled down and they both lay on their sides facing the other, completely ignoring the soap question, “I haven’t said it enough, but thank you for doing this for me.”

Quentin pushed his hair back behind his ears, “I offered El, I don't mind.”

Eliot thought Quentin’s shy quiet whisper was the cutest fucking thing in the world. “Well you’re really good at it, they suspect nothing.”

Quentin rolled his eyes. “I wonder why that is El?”

“We’re best friends of course.” Eliot watched Quentin’s brow pinch. Damnit.

“Yeah that’s why it’s so convincing, because we’re friends.” Snark was more Eliot’s wheelhouse, but Quentin knew exactly how to dip his tone just right so that Eliot knew he was being a sarcastic little shit. He also knew he couldn’t deal with wherever Quentin was taking this conversation, not now, not tonight. So he did the thing he swore he was going to stop doing, he rolled over like the actual coward he was and said a quiet good night.

Quentin was stricken. He did not want Eliot turning away from him, not like that, not when he was so fucking vulnerable from his family. Goddamnit he thought. Then he had another thought, it wasn’t like Eliot would actually abandon him here, or leave the room, so he did the thing he swore to himself he would start doing. He’d stop letting Eliot hide from him. Putting his arms around Eliot was easy, convincing the taller larger man that he should be the little spoon was a little bit more difficult, but Eliot eventually relaxed into Quentin’s embrace. “I’m sorry.” Quentin said softly into Eliot’s ear.

Eliot sighed and tried to let his hurt and his pain drain away so he'd stop upsetting Quentin. He rolled back over and wrapped himself around Q's smaller body. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m just fucked up right now.”

Quentin shushed him and ran his hands through his hair, soothing Eliot with every stroke. “I’m here. Just sleep, we’ll cast the spell tomorrow night, and we can go home and you’ll have all the time you need to process it okay.”

Eliot nodded against his chest, breathed in deeply, and drifted to sleep content in Quentin’s arms.

**

Quentin stepped out of the room, wearing yesterday’s pants and Eliot’s undershirt, on his way to the kitchen for coffee. Eliot had already left the room by the time Quentin opened his eyes, which was usual for them. Not that they slept in the same room these days, but Eliot had always been an early riser, and Quentin had always avoided the sight of the sun for as long as possible. Margo tapped him on the shoulder, he’d been completely lost in thought, and nearly made him jump out of his skin. “Hey, you’re back.”

Margo squinted her eyes and thinned her lips and Quentin felt the first blush of the day warm his cheeks. “Obviously, yes I’m back. How’s Eliot?”

Quentin sighed. “He’s not talking to me. He’s like avoiding the shit out of talking about everything in fact. Which I get it, but also I'm worried.”

Margo huffed out a breath. “Have any of them even approached him?”

“Yeah he talked to Cooper on the back porch yesterday. He seemed okay. But with Eliot and how he processes, he could be five steps away from tearing this house down to it’s foundations and burying their asses under the rubble.”

“Fuck. Well what should we do?” She asked as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“Margo, I want him to talk about his mom. I want him to face it, and come out the other side whole. That’s what I want. I can’t get a read on how he feels though or what he wants.” They both looked pensive when Quentin took a deep breath, “Did I ever tell you that he quit, not drinking, but everything else in Fillory after Teddy was born.”

“No you didn’t, he quit what?” Margo asked confused.

“Fillory had its own version of weed and medicinals if you will. We made liberal use of them in the beginning. Eliot would throw parties in town, and we’d get so fucked up we couldn’t see straight. Later we sort of figured out how to use them to manage my depression. But the minute Teddy was born he quit using them for fun. He didn’t say he was going to, he just stopped.” Quentin put his hands in his pockets and pushed back against the wall.

“Wow, that’s kind of huge.” Margo tried to imagine how that would have affected Eliot, and a part of her couldn’t help the sting of jealousy she felt at Quentin having been witness to Eliot becoming a responsible adult.

“Yeah, so I don’t think he actively knew about his mom, but maybe somewhere deep down he did. He made damn sure Teddy never saw him break down. He rocked me through every mental break I had, and Teddy witnessed most of them; but, we never had a fight in front of Teddy, and he always made sure Teddy never saw him lose control. I thought it was a by product of his father, but maybe…..maybe it was because of his mother as well.”

“Jesus Q.”

“Can you talk to him? I think he really needs you and not me in this case. I think he’s being deliberately obtuse.” Quentin pushed himself harder against the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest, and stared down at the floor with his thinking face.

“What makes you think that?” Margo patted his arm in her best impression of comfort. Surprisingly, Quentin seemed to actually find her comforting. It always confused her, because she knew she was abrasive as fuck, but Quentin didn’t seem to mind. And the fact that he was willing to share this with her was something she deeply appreciated. God she loved them both so much.

Quentin stared up at her, Eliot’s idiocy obviously pushing him to the edge. “Oh my god, we’re literally lying in bed together and he says thanks for pretending with me, you’re really good at this whole fake boyfriend thing, and I was like I wonder why that is Eliot.” Sarcasm was dripping from every word, and Margo resisted the urge to laugh at him. He would not take that well. He huffed. “Which is basically saying, why is it so easy to convince these almost strangers that we’re together Eliot. You know what he said Margo.” Quentin was getting worked up.

“No but you are clearly dying to tell me.” Margo covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. Worked up Quentin was delightful in every way. His face got a little red and he always pushed his hair back from his face, and what a beautiful face it was, Eliot had impeccable taste.

“It’s because we’re such good friends Q, what else could it possibly be. Un-fucking-believable right.” Indignation and pure annoyed disbelief made Quentin’s face pinch, and Margo finally let loose and just laughed.

“He’s definitely your idiot.”

“You have partial ownership, so fuck, I don’t know what to do other than beat him over the head with a fucking wooden plank. Even then I don’t know how much good it would actually do.”

“I’ll chase him down after I get your clothes put away, you go get your coffee Q, you clearly need it.” Margo shooed him downstairs.

**

Quentin walked into the kitchen quietly, as was his habit, and looked for a pot of coffee. Harper was drinking a cup at the breakfast table, she’d already cleared the dishes and cleaned up from everyone eating. She watched quietly as Quentin poured his coffee, and waved him into the chair next to her own. Quentin sat, a little bit wary of exactly why she wanted him at the table, but he didn’t want to be rude. She’d told him more than once to call her Harper, but he was still tripping on the Mrs. Waugh, not quite comfortable enough yet to use her first name.  Her elbows rested on the table, and she stared into her coffee cup deeply before she took a breath and said conversationally, “So, why aren’t you dating my son for real?”

Quentin didn’t yelp, but it was pretty close. Eliot’s mother ladies and gentleman, no tact. He wiggled in his seat a bit, “Umm what makes you think we’re not. You know. Umm dating.”

She tilted her head in the exact way that Eliot sometimes did, raised her brow in the exact way Eliot sometimes did, and snorted. She might seem frail, she might seem weak, but Quentin was quickly realizing she is absolutely where Eliot gets his “try me motherfucker” attitude. “Please, I may not have seen my child for 10 years, but he’s ass over elbows in love with you, and if you were actually dating he’d be wrapped around you like….well, it would be embarrassing is all I’m saying.”

Quentin blushed, he was red as a tomato, he knew he was, and there was literally nothing to hide him. It took just about everything he had not to slip out of his chair and slide under the table in a puddle. “I mean, well umm, okay so it’s mostly because your son is an idiot.”

Harper breathed out a laugh, clearly surprised at Quentin’s forthrightness. “Oh he definitely gets that from his father. Don’t tell him I said so.” She said quietly, almost demurely, and Quentin once again felt a wave of compassion come over him. Eliot was so much like her, it was truly disconcerting.

Quentin shook his head vigorously back and forth. “Never.”

“Smart boy. I gather he’s pushing you away out of some preconceived fear of failure or insecurity?”

Quentin turned full body towards her, eyes wide, a look of pure wonder all over his face “Yesssss, omg yes. That.”

Harper smiled, soft and a little pained. “That’s a Waugh family trait I’m afraid. Madrigal’s tend to throw themselves off cliffs and ask questions later.” She leaned back in her chair, and lifted her coffee cup for a sip. “You made the first move I bet, and he turned you down.”

“You are an actual magician, you were just messing with us before.” Quentin said in awe.

“Oh no, but” She heaved a sigh and said softly, “he learned what fear was in this house, I know that face anywhere. And it is” She sighed heavily.  “Written all over his face, I can see it every time you walk out of the room without him.”

Quentin just stared. He didn’t know what to say, Eliot didn’t talk to his family so he knew that they didn’t know anything about what had happened to him over the years. Not entirely sure Eliot would be okay with him telling her this, but wanting her to understand even if it was just a little bit, and hoping she could help. At the end of the day, happy healthy Eliot was all he really wanted. And if she was offering insight into Eliot's childhood, he wasn't going to ignore it. Forging ahead, he revealed just a tiny sliver of what had happened. “I died. I’m back, but I died, and Eliot was possessed by a god monster, and when he came back I was dead for a little while. He’s not over it. I don’t really think any of us are.”

Harper’s eyes watered, Quentin could see the slight trembling in her hands as she took another sip of her coffee. She wore a white sundress today, short sleeved and modest but you could still tell she was frightfully thin. It made her look ethereal and just this side of frail. Her curly hair was piled up on her head, and Quentin couldn’t help thinking of historical imagery of Greek Goddesses. She made him think of Athena, and he wondered reflectively if Eliot saw her as a monster. They really needed to talk. Quentin pushed his thoughts away and could see Harper visibly trying to relax.

“He was mine, every bit of him was mine.” Her voice sounded far away, like she was remembering the first time she’d ever seen Eliot’s face.

Quentin just stared at her curiously, not really understanding where she was going, and not saying anything, because if she was anything like Eliot and he interrupted, she’d just get up and walk away.

“When the nurse brought him to me, and put him in my arms, I knew. That piece of him that was all me, I could feel it. The other boys were mine of course, but clearly Waugh boys. Not Eliot. He had my mother’s eyes, and a beautiful head of black hair, and that "take life by the actual horns" Madrigal power .” She sniffled just a bit. “Growing up, it was like having my sister back in the house, he was so much like her it hurt to look at him sometimes.”

Quentin smiled sadly, “Harper you don’t have to.”

But she cut him off with a hand on his arm. “No I need to tell you. You love him, you love him like he deserves. I don’t know if I can tell him this because I don’t know if he’ll listen, but I need someone to know.”

“Obviously I haven’t seen him in 10 years, but he was my baby, and I shredded that to pieces because of my own weakness and my own choices. Nothing, not a single moment of what happened to him was his fault. George pushed my boys to the edge of decency, I buried the pain of it in drugs and alcohol, and I let him hurt my babies.” Tears were falling from her eyes, and she’d abandoned her coffee on the table.

Wiping her face and taking a fortifying breath she continued. “I’ll never forgive myself for that, and I won’t ask them to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. But I did the best I could to make sure they never had to come back here if they didn’t want to. Once they left, I made fucking sure they didn’t have to come back.”

Quentin frowned, surprised at her language and how emphatic she was. “You abandoned him though, he went off on his own, and you just let him. I don’t understand”

She sighed and sat back in her chair. “Madrigals are powerful, but more often than not, we're not physical. Serena is an illusionist. Often we're psychic. Eliot manifested his telekinesis by killing someone. With everything around him being what it was, honestly, I thought Eliot would kill his brothers or his father. I didn't think he would come back from that, not whole. He still had a chance to be whole, but that chance wasn't here and it wasn't with me. I had Serena cast a probability spell. She couldn't see passed his 21st year, but in every scenario his best chance, was me letting him go. So I did.”

Quentin was startled and beyond heartbroken, he could barely speak. “What?”

“Quentin, I was born into a long line of magicians. George was a son of a bitch. I should have never married him, but I wouldn’t trade my boys for the world. I couldn't see the way out of the cage I'd put us all in. I contacted Serena when Eliot started to manifest. He’d lost his temper with that boy and I needed to do something. Serena and I contacted Henry. Then we just let it play out with the best odds.”

“Wait, Henry who?”

She looked at him just as curiously. “Fogg. The Dean of Brakebills. I told him what Eliot had done. Henry agreed to keep an eye on him. He’d be the first dean to have a Madrigal on campus, that was too good for his ego to pass up. So he dampened Eliot’s power, and watched.” Her eyes went wide at Quentin’s pure confusion. “He obviously never said, it wasn’t a big secret or anything. I couldn’t actively send him anywhere per the probability spells outcomes, and to be honest Madrigal’s tend to do better in life making their own way.”

“That’s harsh.” Quentin said not knowing what to say really. This was all, more than he’d thought, more than he was really able to process.

“Perhaps, but he’d been torn to shreds here. He needed to be somewhere he could remake himself. I could have had Serena come for him, I could have sent him to the family estate, I could have sent him to a school in Europe for magicians, but he was never happier than when I just let him go.” She sighed. “He needed to get his feet under him, he needed to find his way, or he was bound to use the anger and pain that we put him through to become something far darker and more sinister than he is now. Of all the shitty things I’ve done, letting Eliot run away to the city and having Henry keep an eye on him is the least of my sins. The fact that his happiness was tied to my misery is one of my greatest sorrows.”

Quentin just gaped at her.

She smiled her wispy far away smile, stood up from her seat at the table and put her hand on Quentin’s shoulder. “Please, just love him.” Then she walked from the room and Quentin wanted to yell, “what the fuck”, loud long and hard.

**

Eliot was in the basement sitting on the couch watching cartoons. He’d made himself a bowl of cereal and avoided his brothers like the plague, waiting for Quentin to get up and Margo to get back. Quentin had called him on his behavior last night and he’d run away from him like he always does. They were good together. Quentin pointed it out. Eliot turned away. Fan-fucking-tastic, way to go you actual fucking idiot. Halfway through his bowl of cereal the thing he didn’t want to happen, happened. Sitting his cereal bowl on the table, he watched as Jasper walked in the room and dropped down on the sofa beside him.

It was around 7 in the morning, so he knew his brothers had all been up since around 4, animals had to be fed before work after all. Jasper had jeans and a well worn t-shirt on, no logo or anything, so Eliot wasn’t sure if he’d already been to work or if he had yet to go. His hair was curly and blonde, and he kept it short. No product. And the scar on his face was just one more thing that Eliot had missed, and he couldn’t help feeling sad about not knowing how it happened. Then pissed off for being sad because fuck his brother. Then pissed off for being pissed off. His emotions were a fucking wreck at the moment. Eliot wanted to slap himself for his curiosity, but it just wouldn’t stop.

“So we just going to sit here in silence.” Jasper quipped.

Eliot scrunched up his nose, and shrugged like the actual child he was.

Jasper laughed, then poked. Because he had always been one to poke at people. Being in this house reminded Eliot that not every moment with his brothers was hell. Sometimes they were okay. “You going to do anything today? Or has the city made you lazy?” Most of the time they were dicks.

Eliot glared but didn’t break his silence. Petulance was a motherfucking art form, and he’d been a world class master at 6.

“All right, but remember you brought this on yourself.” With that Jasper took the blanket that Eliot had wrapped himself in, and jerked him forward into his arms. Eliot flailed a bit, and wiggled to try to get away, but Jasper may have been a few inches shorter, he was still built like a fucking Mack truck. He wrapped his arms around Eliot and they were mostly trapped in the blanket and lounging on the couch. “If you weren’t such a baby, we could have talked this out like you know manly men, no tears, while feeding the fucking horses.”

“Fuck you.” Eliot grumbled.

“Mature El. I missed you dipshit. I missed you, and I worried about you, and I fucking hate the fact that we pushed you so far away that you felt like you couldn’t come back. Like we wouldn’t be there, like we were such assholes you didn’t have anyone and needed to fucking disappear.”

“Get off me asshole.”

Jasper loosened his hold on the blanket so Eliot could sit up, but surprisingly he didn’t move away just sat there and looked at his older brother. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Jasper shrugged. “Nope.”

Eliot stared. “What do you even do?”

Jasper laughed. “I’m a mechanic. I mostly take care of the farm, and fix cars on the side. Nina and I have a house on the other side of the property. I didn’t want to live here. Curiosity El?”

“Sue me. Nina the pregnant wife?” Eliot snapped.

“Yeah, and maybe I will.” Jasper shoved Eliot just enough to position them so they were sitting right beside one another, shoulder to shoulder, facing the TV.

“What about you, Grad school, that’s pretty lofty of you.”

“Kind of, it’s just magician school.” Eliot brushed off his brothers words. Not uncomfortable with him on the couch, but he couldn’t help but remember early mornings when he was a kid. Arguing over the remote, which cartoon to watch, and who was going to watch X-Men and then give the others a play by play of what happened because horse feeding time was during X-Men.

Jasper nudged Eliot and raised one of his brows, “Serena said you had to be smart to get in.”

Eliot rolled his eyes at his brother, “I’ve always been smart, it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, Cooper went to grad school, he would have had to so he could teach.”

“But Cooper’s like functional smart, you’re like world smart.” Jasper said exasperated.

Eliot turned his body so he could stare intently at his brother, “What the fuck does that mean Jaz, you are not about to tell me I’m street smart.” The childhood nickname rolling out unconsciously and barely noticed by either of them.

Jasper frowned. “Fuck you no, I mean theory El, like thinking, like the world. How it is, and how it should be. Knowing when things are right and wrong. Like, you knew that. You’ve always known that. You knew what we were doing was wrong, how we were living was wrong. I didn’t learn that shit until I left. I couldn’t see passed my own nose. I didn’t understand that people lived differently than we did. That we were fucking up by doing what we were doing. I didn’t really understand that there were fathers in the world that hugged and kissed their kids goodnight until I left fucking Indiana.”

Eliot sighed. “Yeah, there’s a great big wide world out there.”

“That’s my point jackass. You knew that there was a whole world out there, a whole world of people trying to be better and actually succeeding. And it’s like you couldn’t understand why we didn’t.” Jasper’s tone had dipped into sadness, and Eliot was a little sorry for it. Jasper had always tried to make them laugh. Except when dad was around, or when he was trying to avoid getting the shit kicked out of him.  

Wanting to change the subject, and wanting to stop running, he asked softly “Where’d you get the scar on your face Jaz?”

Jasper tilted his head back against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “It’s ugh, fuck. Shit I guess I should start with you. You know that Cooper went to college in Texas and Noah followed him, you were the last of us out of the house.

“Yeah I remember.” Eliot said quietly.

“I went to Georgia for school, I was alone for the first time, we all kind of were. But I knew where Noah and Cooper were, I could find them if I wanted to. You fucking disappeared. It wasn’t like I knew you were in the city and I knew you were in college. Mom told us New York, but you didn’t say anything else in your note. Cooper went looking for you, so did Noah and so did I, and we couldn’t find you.” He turned his head to look at Eliot, and Eliot met his stare with a stubborn one of his own.

“Cooper thought you changed your name, I thought you were dead. So I came home. It was a year after you’d been gone. For the first time in god 4 years, I came home. Mom talked to us, told us how she was doing, how the farm was, so I hadn’t completely dropped off the map. Anyway so I came home.” Jasper took a fortifying breath and Eliot felt the tiniest bit afraid of where this story was going.

“Jaz if this is too much, you don’t have to tell me.”

“No I do. Have to tell you. It’s important that you understand, that I learned. Conceptually I understood that he hit our mother. I’d never seen him do it. I’d seen him hit you, Noah, Cooper, but I’d never seen him hit mom. He for some reason kept that private. She was high and he was drunk, and there was a lot of shouting.” Jaz ran a hand across his face. “What’s fucked up, what fucks me up about it, is there was a small part of me that thought he had to because that’s the only way to deal with weak people.”

Eliot knew how he felt, bone deep knew how he felt, and it was scary as fucking shit. “You sympathized with him.”

“Yeah, then I couldn’t fucking believe I thought that. That someone could deserve to be hit. Then I realized I was fucked up. And I lashed out. I pulled him away from her, and he back handed me with a screwdriver in his fist. Split my cheek open. Dad died 3 months later.” Jasper finished his story with a monotone flat voice, that Eliot couldn’t help but take note of.

“I had wondered if one of you had killed him.” Eliot leaned closer to Jasper, unconsciously offering comfort, and surprised when Jasper actually took it. He threw his arm around Eliot and pulled him into a hug.

“No he had a heart attack out in the field. I came home to take care of what I could, the farm, mom. I got her into a pretty decent rehab program and a counseling program. We're all in therapy. She’s fucked up, but I guess we all kind of are so who am I to judge. I can’t change what we went through. Can’t change what I did. I can just choose not to repeat it.” That was the therapy Eliot knew. Quentin had puppy eyed him like a motherfucker after the monster possession, so he was seeing a magical therapist.

Eliot sighed into his brother’s t-shirt. “How does one person fuck up so many people. If I’d killed him when we were kids, how much different would our lives have been?”

Jasper shook him just a little. “I think leaving is what made me who I am. If I’d stayed I might have been hitting my wife, as we speak. So I don’t think killing him would have made a difference. I think seeing the world is what did it for me.”

“Yeah, me too. Where is your wife by the way, do we get to meet her?”

Jasper laughed, “You may not want to, she’s 100% pregnant and on the warpath. She’s at home, pregnant, asleep or awake, and cursing my name. She’s pissed about all of this. And frankly I wasn't sure you would come back and help break the spell. We both spent a few sleepless nights worrying about that.” Jasper squeezed Eliot just a little tighter. “You know something that terrifies me El?”

Eliot couldn’t believe he was letting one of his dickhead brothers cuddle him, that was pretty fucking terrifying. Also, that same dickhead brother thought he wouldn't help save his baby. God they were so fucked up. “What?”

Jasper couldn’t keep the shaking out of his voice, “Hitting my kid. I lay awake some nights and I wonder, I have a temper you know.”

Eliot pushed away from Jasper so he could look him in the face, “You won’t.” He said with all the conviction he could put in his voice.

Jasper shook his head, fear all over his face. “You can’t know that, how do you even defend what I did when...”

Eliot interrupted him, “I do know.” He put his hand on Jasper’s chest and shoved himself further back so he could sit lotus style on the couch and face Jasper. “Magic is weird, beyond anything you can imagine. Strangeness.” Jasper just stared at him confused. But Eliot continued, knowing he needed to say this. “I had a kid with Quentin in another lifetime. His name was Teddy, I was there when he was born, and I lived and died as his Papa."

Jasper’s eyes were as wide as they could be. “Holy shit you raised a kid?”

“Yeah he was a good boy. And I never hit him. Not once. Never felt like I needed to. Never felt like I wanted to. Didn’t spank, slap, call him names, berate him, or diminish him in any way. At the end of the day Jaz, it’s a choice. It’s one you wake up with in the morning and go to bed with at night.” Jasper was staring at him in awe, eyes wide and hopeful, and Eliot felt a part of himself that he’d held underwater for 10 years rise to the surface and take a breath.

“How you treat your kid, how you want him to treat others, you can build that. It’s buildable. Children absorb your behavior, your wants, your needs, if you want peace love and happiness, you have to give it, so they can take it. It’s one of the most beautiful things about them. Just because we got hit, doesn’t automatically mean we will hit them. You won't hit your kid if you make the choice not to.”

Sitting on the couch beside one another, neither man was crying, but it was pretty fucking close. Eliot felt some of the weight from all his years and all his pain lift just the smallest bit. He was here and he was going to make sure nothing happened to his brother's baby. Certainty like he hadn't felt in a long time built inside him, and he wanted nothing more than to cast the spell right this fucking minute. 

Jasper let out a shaky breath, “I really did fucking miss you, El.”

“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize I really fucking missed you too.” 


	5. Where I Belong

**

Jasper rubbed a hand through Eliot’s curls, making his truly spectacular case of bed head even more ridiculous, curls were sticking straight up like he’d been struck by lightning. Margo didn’t laugh, but it was close. Eliot swatted at him, but Jasper just grinned and tipped an imaginary hat to Margo as he side stepped her out of the room. Good. He was scared. All was as it should be.

Eliot smiled at her and pushed his hair back. “Clothes, please tell me you picked out something delicious for Quentin.” Margo rolled her eyes.

“You are entirely too ridiculous, come on, lets get you dressed and you can explain to me why the fuck you’re making Q cry into his cereal about how much you don’t want to date him.” 

Eliot gaped at her, but obediently rose from the couch to follow her upstairs. When he walked into the room and stripped, he started pulling clothes from the suitcase Margo set up on the bed. “It’s not like that.” He protested.

“Oh, care to tell me what it is like then.” Margo snapped.

“No, actually. Mind your own fucking business Bambi.” Margo glared. Eliot had that look. The one he got when he wasn’t going to fucking budge. She sighed. He really wasn’t going to be reasonable about this, even though he was for all intents and purposes, the most reasonable of the lot of them. Eliot was logical. He was practical. He was also in avoidance mode, and the only way to get him out of it, was like Quentin said, hit him up side the head. She just didn’t know what to hit him with. 

“Fine, don’t give the boy what he wants, but be advised, I think you’re fucking stupid.” She walked up behind him and smoothed out the shirt she picked for him, as he buttoned it up.

“Noted Bambi.” He said quietly. 

She pushed her head into his back, and rested her forehead between his shoulders. “I love you El.” Then she shoved herself backwards, grabbed Quentin’s clothes, and walked out of the room. Quentin was wrong, this wasn’t something she needed to do, it was something Eliot needed to do. Talking to him wasn’t going to push him anywhere. 

**

Eliot walked slowly toward the back fence reeling a bit from his conversation with Margo, not happy that he’d basically told her to fuck off, and that he’d pushed Quentin into a metaphorical corner. He just couldn’t seem to help it. It’s a beautiful summer day, and surely that’s to blame for it taking him a minute to realize his brother has Quentin on a horse. Mesmerized by the sight of Quentin taking Belle through her paces, Eliot can feel his jaw drop. Jasper was sitting on the fence calling out instructions, but Eliot could not fucking take his eyes off of Quentin on horseback. It was beautiful. It was distracting. Margo, Alice, and Serena were nearby petting the other horses and calling out encouragement. Q had on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that couldn’t possibly be his because it actually fit, and Eliot was shocked at how fast his mouth watered at the sight. Eliot was absolutely making an ass of himself, but he could not bring himself to care. He did not have western fantasies, he’d never liked the whole cowboy aesthetic, even when he’d been at home. But there was just something…..

“Something about a man on a horse, little brother.” Eliot startled at Noah’s voice finishing the thought he was having in his head, and nearly tripped over his own feet. He hadn’t even fucking seen him standing there, he’d been so distracted by Quentin. Noah was laughing outright. “You didn’t even know I was here. Jesus, that man has you twisted inside out.”

“Ha fucking ha.” Eliot said as he put his foot on the bottom rung of the fence and boosted himself up.

“Don’t hurt yourself city boy.” Noah said sarcastically.

“Just because I enjoy a fucking martini without dust in it, does not make me incapable of sitting on a fence. Ass.” Eliot snipped.

“Right, because dust doesn’t exist in Metropolis. Idiot.”

“I was in Fillory for a few years, I was not exclusively in New York, and fuck you Gotham is based on New York, Metropolis is an amalgamation of.” Eliot cut himself off in horror, Quentin filling every inch of his vision was dangerous. He was absolutely not going to look back at his brother and acknowledge the fact that he’d just literally nerded out in his distraction; Jesus wept from how smoothly Quentin’s hips moved with that fucking horse.

Noah laughed, “Nerd.” He said softly and pulled himself up beside Eliot on the fence. “Still a fucking idiot though, why don’t you go join him?”

“And give you all a show, hardly.” Eliot demurred.

Noah laughed again, “Like you’re actually fooling anyone with that bullshit aloofness. You’d go to church and stop swearing if that boy asked you to.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Quentin would never.” Eliot said horrified.

“Yeah but you’re thinking about the hell you’d go through just to make him happy, and now you look like you ate a bowl of lemons. Not a good look for you, dick.” Noah said, just this side of mean.

“Fuck off.” Eliot mumbled as he twisted himself to follow Quentin’s progress around the paddock. Goddamnit, how was this a fucking thing. He tried to remember if he’d ever seen Quentin on a horse in Fillory, but he couldn’t bring anything to mind. Centaurs, peasant revolts, carriages, but Quentin sitting on an actual horse was a big fat no. He could see his shoulders moving under his shirt, and the way his arms directed the horses movements, and his motherfucking hips. Quentin wasn’t a professional, but he sat on the horse comfortably leaning into the gait and the smooth glide of the horses steps. Eliot felt a bead of sweat drip down his neck, and it wasn’t from the heat of the day. Well shit.

“Yeah you did enough of that for both of us.” Noah’s tone was not friendly. Eliot finally started paying attention, and he realized Noah wasn’t joking anymore. He was mad. 

“What’s your problem?” He asked as politely as his fuck off tone would allow.

“You. Maybe Cooper and Jaz are stoked to forgive you for being a colossal raging asshole. For fucking disappearing, but I’m still mad at you El.” Noah was glaring at him as he jumped off the fence, and Eliot was struck once again by how similar they looked. A blonde version of himself was glaring at him furiously. His hair was shorter, but he had the same stubble, the same cleft in his chin, the same wary look that Eliot saw in the mirror every morning. What a fucking day.

“Yeah well I’m still pissed at you too.” Eliot snarled. Not giving an inch, self righteous all the way through.

“Fuck you Eliot. I didn’t run away without telling you. I never hurt you. I got my face smashed in just as much as you did, so fuck right the hell off with your self righteous fucking attitude. You didn’t have to sit there and wonder if I’d fucking died because you didn’t fucking give enough of a shit to wonder. So fuck you.” Noah threw down the rope he’d been wrapping, and stomped off toward the house. Eliot was going to jump off the fence and follow him, furious with every word out of Noah’s mouth, when he felt a hand on his arm. He whipped around and came face to face with Brandon. Fucking Brandon. Where did he even come from?

“What the hell are you doing here?” He was maybe a little ashamed of just how whiney that came out, but not enough to take it back.

Brandon cocked a brow at him, but otherwise there was no change in his expression. Placid was the only word Eliot could bring to mind. “Give him a minute.”

“Why the hell should I listen to you?” Eliot jerked his arm out of Brandon’s grip and got off the fence.

Brandon shrugged. “You don’t have to obviously, but it’ll hurt him a lot less if you just give him a minute, and I’d like to think you’re not looking to actively hurt him.” He said all of it in that slow Midwestern drawl and Eliot took a deep calming breath. Noah was probably the most like him in temperament, and he knew personally that cooling off made him a lot more reasonable.  

Knowing Brandon was right didn’t stop Eliot from resenting him for it, so he couldn’t stop the sharp edged tone from snapping out of him. “Fine.” 

But Brandon didn’t appear to be offended, he just chuckled. “You’re just like him you know. For all that you liked theater and he liked sports, you both are so fucking similar.” Brandon shook his head and pushed Eliot’s shoulder, and Eliot couldn’t begrudge him as he’d just had the same thought. “Walk back slowly, he’ll probably be pouting in your room. And El.” Brandon paused waiting for Eliot’s undivided attention. Once he had it he said firmly, “don’t hurt him.” Staring into Brandon’s eyes Eliot felt like the world’s fucking biggest idot. Well didn’t that just figure. And now he was talking like a country bumpkin in his head, fuck.

On the walk back up to the house he tried to settle his temper and control his breathing. It was a beautiful day, sunshine and a slight breeze tickling his nose reminded him that he actually liked the smell of cut grass and the honeysuckle crawling up the side of the house. Fresh, sweet, and wet. Birds in the trees, and the heat of the sun finally wilted his anger. Therapy was slowly teaching him how to focus on the external, so he wasn’t so overwhelmed by the internal.

As he got closer to the house, he noticed his mother was sitting on the back porch listening to John Denver, and the lyrics of drifting out in that slow twang brought him to a complete stop.

 

> _Almost heaven, West Virginia_
> 
> _Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River_
> 
> _Life is old there, older than the trees_
> 
> _Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze_
> 
> _Country roads, take me home_
> 
> _To the place I belong_

The melody was so familiar it brought an ache deep inside him, and Eliot had to take a breath. Fuck. Fuck. Burning eyes met burning eyes as he looked at her sitting by herself in an old rocking chair, she smiled a wobbly smile at him and turned away looking back out over the corn field. Giving him space, not asking anything of him, letting him be. 

Hating country music came from a deep seated hatred of his childhood, but he couldn’t deny the memories the music could rip out of him at the most inconvenient moments. Mom had loved this song, and he remembered sitting on the kitchen counter one summer. The other boys and dad were in the fields, but he was with her in the kitchen making cookies. She’d listened to this song on repeat, singing sweetly and letting him lick all the bowls clean. Looking at her now, small and sad, he wished like hell they all hadn’t had to suffer like they had. Standing in the middle of the back yard, corn field behind him, house before him, his past weighing him down, the smell of bright sunshine and summer clinging to him, he sucked in a breath and got the fuck over it. Change didn’t happen because you let everything stay the same, change happens when you step up, when you move on, when you put things in motion. You don’t just wake up one day magically better, you have to fucking work for it.

Stepping onto the back porch, he walked over to his mother, bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “I remember,” he said softly, and turned before she could say something, or he could break down, and went in the house to find Noah. The Indiana summer breeze drifting in behind him and slamming the screen door shut.

**

“Pretty sure Eliot was actively drooling. Like he was completely fucked, Q was 2 seconds from getting ripped off that horse and dragged into the bushes, and Quentin literally has no idea.” Margo rolled her eyes.

“Oh, it was just this side of pathetic. And you’re sure they’re not really together?” Serena asked in complete disbelief.

“Nope, they’re totally in denial. I mean they don’t fuck other people or each other, they live together, but they flat out refuse to take that final step into actual relationship world. Quentin tries, Eliot evades, and it’s ridiculous.” Margo snorts hands on her hips.

 Alice puts her two cents in, “I mean before we actually saved Eliot, Quentin legitimately tried to get back together with me. Like I wouldn’t eventually notice he’s in love with his best friend. What an idiot.” She was fascinated with the horses, they were so soft, and so smart, and just so everything. She wondered if Jasper would let her have one or help her buy one.

“Well we’ll just have to do something…” Serena trailed off as she watched Eliot bend down and kiss his mother’s cheek. “Fuck me.” she said wonderingly.

Margo was also watching with complete fucking awe. “Did he just?”

“Yeah I think he did.” Alice looked at Quentin, sitting on a horse, his hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes. 

“Girls this is almost embarrassing. Is it always like this?” Serena asked in pure disbelief watching how soft Quentin got over Eliot’s behavior.

“Oh it’s worse at home. Eliot is actually being slightly more standoffish than he usually is. I mean they literally wrap themselves around each other, in the same blanket, to watch TV on our couch, in fucking boxers. Like Eliot even wears boxers, he has a special pair for their TV time. Like friends do that.” Margo heaves an exasperated sigh.

Serena humms. “I think this calls for an intervention. Of the magic kind.”

Margo eyes her up and down. Power bleeds off of this woman, confidence, magic, and competence. Trusting her isn’t even really the question, Margo grins her sharklike grin, throws her arm around Alice, and says conspiratorially “What did you have in mind?”

**

Eliot approached the doorway to his room quietly. Noah was lying stretched out on Eliot’s bed, one arm hooked behind his head, the other across his stomach, and staring intently up at the ceiling. Sliding across the hardwood floor, Eliot didn’t hesitate, and dropped down beside him in an exact mirror pose. “Still pissed?”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking asshole.” Noah snapped, then sighed. “I kind of hate you right now.”

Eliot made a humming sound. “Your boyfriend told me to be nice, so I won’t tell you what a dick you’re being.”

“Ha, finally pulled your head out of your ass, I’m surprised you noticed. And fuck you.” Petulance. It was a full on family trait.

“Noah.” Eliot said completely exasperated. “I’m sorry.”

Noah turned his head and Eliot could see how red his eyes were. “Are you really? Because I don’t think you are. I thought you were dead you stupid son of a bitch.” He paused and took a deep breath and his voice dropped to its lowest register. “I thought you were dead.”

Something inside Eliot snapped. He remembered Noah, he remembered Noah from when they were just children, barely older than 7. They’d had to sleep in the same room for most of their childhood until Cooper left for college because there weren’t enough rooms in the house. They’d had bunk beds in this room until they were 13. Eliot remembered vividly Noah climbing into the top bunk with him, even though he was almost a whole year older, pushing himself into Eliot’s side because he was scared of the dark. They’d pull the covers over their heads and whisper each other to sleep. “I really am sorry.” This time it was Eliot pulling one of his brothers into his arms. Jesus Christ how had he forgotten that Noah was just as vulnerable as he was.

Noah resisted a little at first, but finally relaxed. “Mom swore up and down you weren’t dead. Cooper finally put his foot down and quit letting me go to New York to look for you.”

“I’m sorry, I genuinely had no desire to actually hurt you or anyone when I left. I just thought it was what I needed to do.” Eliot ran his hand through Noah’s hair and drifted for just a bit. “I was a selfish asshole, but I was in survival mode. I knew what I was capable of, but I didn’t know who I was, and I needed to find that.”

Noah nodded his head, “You know when I first accepted you were dead and I was never going to see you again, that was the first time I cried in front of Brandon. I was laying in bed, just missing the hell out of you, and he came in and was trying to make me feel better. We weren’t dating yet, I was still an asshole.” Noah laughed a little. Then he pushed back, putting space between them, so he could look up at Eliot. 

“Do you remember that summer, we were around 10, and dad made us go to that stupid survival retreat.” Noah started softly.

“Yeah, fuck him, but what that camp taught me, has come in handy more than once over the past few years.” Eliot remembered camping in Fillory, and everyone’s face when he knew how to set up a tent on his own, and almost laughed. Looking at Noah’s face though he held it in and tried to remember what specifically about that Summer was causing the look on his brother’s face.

“The tents were up, and we were all getting ready to go to bed.” Noah pushed himself back against the headboard and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Eliot rose up on one elbow and turned to the side, oh shit he thought, “you got lost in the woods. I completely forgot about that. Shit.”

Noah nodded, “Yeah, you snuck away from the camp leader and you just walked into the woods and came and found me like I wasn’t even lost. No one from camp could find us, we were in the woods for over 24 hours, but you just walked straight through the woods and right up to me.” Noah rubbed a hand across his face and turned to look at Eliot.

“Yeah I remember, couldn’t get us back, but I could find you.” Eliot began to wonder if he hadn’t manifested even earlier than he thought. No way could a 9 year old boy track his 10 year old brother through the woods at night without some assistance.

“We had to sleep in the woods, and I was fucking terrified. Every single noise made me cry, and you were a year younger than me, but you fucking took over the situation like you were an adult. You found a spot for us where nothing could come at us from behind, where the moon lit us up just a little, pushed me in the corner, put me at your back, and faced the world for me. You sang me to sleep, and waited patiently for the adults to find us. Like you weren’t 9 fucking years old.” 

Eliot shook his head. “Bullshit Noah, I was just as scared as you were.” Eliot said with a fierce scowl.

“Yeah well, I didn’t know it, and I couldn’t see it.” Noah picked at a loose strand on the blanket, and sighed. “I needed you, and you made sure nothing happened to me. You always did. Dad picked us up from that fucking camp, and beat the shit out of you because you told him you dared me to go into the woods alone. He would have got both of us, but you redirected him. You always did that. Redirected the attention.” Noah laid his head on his knees and looked across the room at the wall, his tone dull and lifeless.

Eliot knew what he was doing, he’d done it enough himself over the years. Noah was working through how not to blame himself for someone else’s pain. Eliot pulled him back down so he was laying beside him, and hugged him as tightly as he was able. “Whatever bruises he gave me were never because of you, and always because of him. His choices are not yours to carry, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. I know that. But he broke me you know. I can’t stand the sound of raised voices, confrontation of any kind really. I literally shut down. Brandon yelled at me once. I was being an idiot and almost fell off the roof because of, anyway doesn’t matter, I scared the shit out of him and he yelled at me and I had a panic attack. Fundamentally I know that Brandon would never in his life hurt me, but my brain just doesn’t work.” Noah was tense beside him, and Eliot sighed.

“Noah, I have it on pretty good authority that our father is my greatest fear. Magic could have manifested some sort of monster from hell, but when pulling my greatest fear out of my conscious, it chose the image of our father, so yeah, same. My brain is just as broken as yours.” He rubbed his chin across Noah’s curls, and squeezed him just a little tighter. “That doesn’t mean we can’t be put back together, that we don’t deserve to be put back together.” Eliot said softly thinking of Quentin, depression, and magic.

Noah just nodded, and pushed his head under Eliot’s chin. “You used to sing to me, before we got separate rooms, you’d sing me to sleep. When I finaly accepted that you were dead, I sat in my room and I cried. I cried because….fuck you.” Noah scrubbed at his eyes, clearly trying to ward off tears. “I had to come to terms with the fact that I was, not only never going to hear you sing again, I was never going to hear your fucking voice again.” Noah sat all the way up on the bed, crossing his legs and taking even calm breaths. “I was a fucking mess, and Brandon helped put me back together. So yeah I know, it’s just hard, and it takes forever, and I really don’t know why he hasn’t fucking given up on me yet.”

Eliot laughed. “He loves you, stupid. I mean it took me a minute to notice because, “ain’t no drama like Magician drama”, but once I looked, it was there for anyone to see.” 

Noah smiled, “Yeah I guess he does. He reminds me most days that I’m worth it, and keeps putting me back together.” 

“Margo did...does that for me.” Eliot said haltingly. “Margo and Quentin.”

Noah smiled and threw himself backwards on the bed dramatically. “Yeah?” He said quietly. 

“Yeah, Margo helped me find myself, and Quentin helped me heal myself to the point I’m at now. Just a few years ago, if this had happened, we would not be having the same conversation.” Feeling the shift of the mood into a lighter softer transition, Eliot pushed his brother gently. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, yeah I guess you are. I’m sorry too.”

**

Everyone had hung out in the living room, trading stories about the passed 10 years, and Eliot had to smile in genuine affection. Who knew this was something he could have? Who knew this was even possible? Quentin had told him he’d help Eliot get out of this whatever he wanted, and he had to suppress a chuckle as he realized peace, easy conversation, and love were hanging over every single head in the room. Minor mending my ass thought Eliot, Quentin was a fucking miracle worker. 

Alice was gushing over horses with Jasper, Margo and Serena were definitely plotting something, Quentin was nerding out about Fillory to a captive audience of Noah, Cooper and his mother. Brandon was standing along the back wall quietly watching Noah like he was the center of his fucking universe. Eliot wasn’t completely oblivious to the same look gracing his own face when he looked at Quentin. He wondered if it was just as embarrassing. Then he realized he just didn’t care. 

The girls were up to something, the whispers were not subtle, and he was pretty sure it had something to do with his and Quentin’s status. After he’d gotten up from his nap with Noah, he’d gone back outside for a bit. Margo and Alice had Quentin stripped down to a fucking tank top, hair pulled back from his face in a bun, working on one of the old trucks by the barn. Hands covered in grease, trying to get his hands on the pieces of the truck that were broken so he could fix them, the Indiana sun lit him up beautifully. And yup, it was just as bad as the damn horse. Aparently sweaty mechanic Quentin just fucking did it for him. Well probably just Quentin did it for him. Staring down Margo wasn’t really that difficult, he was not ashamed of the fact that a single glance at Quentin could send him into literal vapors, he was beyond being embarrassed. Instead, he stood there drinking his lemonade, devouring the flex of every one of Quentin’s visible muscles.

Eliot was snapped out of his thoughts when Serena stood up and walked to the center of the room. “Okay my lovelies, spell casting time is ready to begin. Everyone out to the back yard please.” She ushered them out, clapping her hands, and directing everything like boss she was.

Candles were everywhere in the yard, a huge white circle had been painted and magical herbs and artifacts were in their correct place. The moon was up and the stars were out. The girls had spent several hours setting the spell up, and Eliot felt a little bit guilty that he’d napped through most of it with Noah. Emotions were exhausting. Serena had woken him up eventually, so he could memorize the tut’s of the spell, and make sure he could enunciate the Greek properly. She’d also made very sure he was aware of the fine print of the spell, and Eliot hugged her long and hard for what they were about to do. 

His brothers sat on the back porch steps, and he and Quentin were standing behind them, when Serena glanced at him. “Light the candles for me darling.” Eliot just nodded and gracefully twisted his hands into the correct sequence for fire. All 500 of the candles lit up, and Eliot smiled at Quentin’s wide eyed wonder. He would literally never get over how much Q loved magic. Even after the actual hell they’d been through, he still loved spellwork, it was astonishing. His brothers all jumped and Eliot remembered that they hadn’t actually done any kind of magic in front of them since they’d come.

“Holy shit.” Cooper gasped. “I mean, holy fucking shit.”

Eliot smirked, “Nothing holy about what I do, I guarantee it Coop.” Squeezing between his brothers, he made his way to the circle. “Alright where do you want me?”

Serena and Margo were still suspicious as hell, but he hoped whatever they had planned was coming after the spell was complete. “You stand to the north, I’ll stand at your south, Quentin will take the right, and Margo will be your left. The blood of your family is in the bowl at the center. We separate the curse from the blood, and then we bind the curse to the void.” Her “I mean business” tone was as serious as the red lipstick she wore. Brows drawing down, she smoothed her black dress of any wrinkles and took a breath. “I’m sorry, darling, but this is going to hurt.” Eliot acknowledged her words, when did magic not hurt honestly. She waved for him to begin so he stood in position and started to say the words of the spell.

 

> Pali xathike to psychí, xathikes kai si 
> 
> Pires apo to kalokeri sto mikro sou xeri to lambero asteri kai piges se ali gei
> 
> Which loosely translated to:
> 
> Again the soul was lost, and you were lost too 
> 
> During the summer you took in your small hand the bright star and you went to another world

 

Eliot’s intonation was deep, his voice steady, as he felt his magic dip into the circle. Margo, Quentin, and Serena were incredibly good anchors, and he used their stability to bleed more power into his words. Repeating the verse over and over until he felt the blood rise to the surface. Lights surrounded them, soul magic was flashy thought Eliot, as he lifted the blood. It separated from the bowl, a roiling bubbling ball of blood floating above the circle, and Eliot moved onto phase 2 of the spell. In the distance he could see Alice, she was performing a cloaking spell around the house so anyone passing by wouldn’t actually see them work the magic.

Eliot drew in a deep breath and began the process of extracting the curse. Serena had not been joking. This shit fucking hurt. Cracking and crumbling, it felt like someone had dried out his skin and it was cracking from the lack of moisture. Quentin broke position, stepped closer to Eliot and put his hand on the back of Eliot’s neck. The spell didn’t call for it, and Eliot was mildly worried, but he carried on because Quentin’s hand had soothed the burn of the magic. 

The floating ball of blood was descending slightly, and just barely breaking away from the blood was a chromatic ball of light. Shouldn’t curses be black, was all he could think as he jerked his hands into repeating the spell motions again. Serena began to glow, and his brothers began to glow. Eliot felt the crescendo coming, the magic was about to hit its peak. When it did, the curse had to be fully separated from their blood, so he redoubled his efforts. Jerky movements, faster words, sweat dripping off of all of them.

Bright light pulsed like a beacon in the Indiana summer night, the glow surrounding his brothers and Serena had shifted to Eliot and his mother. Eliot felt a snag in the magic. It was brushing against Serena, but not accepting what she was giving. Fuck no Eliot grunted, calling on every ounce of authority in his blood, he willed the magic to accept what she was giving. With a loud crack and a pulse from the magic, the glow bled out of Serena igniting the blood and the curse, Eliot fell to his knees, and the blood dropped into the bowl. The curse hovered in the circle and Serena shouted. “Out, move your asses now.” Eliot threw himself backwards, taking Quentin with him. Margo had already stepped out of the circle. 

Serena stood at the edge, threw her hands up in the air, and brought them down. The weight of her binding was suffocating, and Eliot had to suck in a deep gulp of air, Quentin was panting beside him. Laying in the grass and staring up at the stars, he felt giddy with the success of the spell. His brothers were coming over, the giddy relief flushing all of them with their success.

“You fucking did it!” Jasper said as he pulled Eliot to his feet.

“Yeah and no one died, got maimed, bled to death, summoned a demon, or got possessed. That’s like a record for us.” Quentin said from his spot on the ground.

“That was a possibility?” Noah said with a wobbly frown.

Eliot shrugged and loose lipped from the success of the spell said, “Yeah. Consequences for spells are pretty fucked actually, sacrifices are required.”

His brothers all looked at each other, then turned to Eliot in unison, “what was sacrificed? Why didn’t you say something?”

Eliot shrugged. “Not my sacrifice.” They all looked at each other in confusion. Eliot stared at Serena and she motioned her hand in a go ahead motion. Eliot tilted his head, are you sure he was asking, and she nodded. “Serena, she’s the one that put down the sacrifice.”

They all whirled around to face her. “It was something the magic needed, and I decided a long time ago it was something I didn’t want. I’m in my 50’s and in a few more months I would have gone through the Change. That’s why it was so important that we do the spell now. I sacrificed my body’s ability to create life, so that yours could. Magic accepted the balance, mostly because Eliot forced it to.” She cocked a brow at him, she’d felt the metaphorical magical hammer Eliot had wielded when the spell threatened to collapse. Nodding her head, Eliot couldn’t help but preen under the glow of her approval.

“Jesus Christ.” Jasper said quietly. His other brothers shared a look, and they converged on their aunt. Wrapping her up in their arms, hugging the breath out of her.

“Boys, really you’re going to ruin my make-up. Get off of me you heathens.” She shouted from their arms, Eliot grinned and threw himself into the pile. Wrapping himself around his brothers, his family, all of it standing under the stars, the adrenaline of the spell heating his blood, he looked up and laughed.

Alice walked over and smiled, Quentin and Margo were both a little teary eyed watching Eliot embrace his family, but Alice noticed their mother stayed away sitting alone on the porch. Watching. Isolated. Alice sighed in sad quiet understanding. Joy and sorrow, juxtaposed, always in opposition, always present, and what families were made of. Eliot might have settled things with his brothers, but it would be a long hard road if he wanted to settle things with his mother.

Margo stepped back so she was beside Alice. “Did you get the thing?” 

Alice turned away from Harper and smiled at Margo. “Of course.”

Margo nodded, “Awesome, they’re not going to know what hit them.”

Alice grinned, “Yeah, Serena is brilliant.” 

**

Eliot groaned, and heaved a huge sigh when he opened his eyes. Looking around the dance studio he couldn’t deny that the girls had outdone themselves. The record player was exactly where it was supposed to be, looking down he was definitely wearing a black tank top with black jeans and slick polished black shoes. Across the room, Quentin was dressed in jeans, and a white button down shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders. Confusion was all over his face and Eliot was mildly embarrassed he was going to have to explain this. 

Fucking Margo.

 The minute Quentin caught sight of the record player and the music started, it dawned on him. Eliot saw the realization come over his face.

He cleared his throat and Quentin walked over, brow raised and a shit eating grin on his face. “Dirty dancing, really?”

“It’s not like I was consulted.” Eliot huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

Quentin laughed, put his hands on Eliot’s crossed arms. “So do we have to act out the whole scene? What’s going to break the illusion?”

Eliot shrugged. “Do you even know how to cha-cha?”

Quentin giggled, “No but I’m pretty sure we can work something out.” Wrapping his arms around Eliot’s waist, his infections grin making Eliot look at him fondly.

“Jesus this is humiliating, I bet the little harpies are watching somewhere. Or even worse...recording” Eliot said with a huff, and pushed Quentin out into the correct position to mimic Johnny and Baby’s movements from Dirty Dancing.

“Who do you think they picked to play Niel, like who gets to walk in on this?” Quentin asked as he danced around Eliot, knowing he was making an ass out of himself, but also knowing they’d be trapped here forever if he didn’t play along. Eliot was on the ground, mouthing the words to the song as Quentin turned away from him, and he was doing his best not to laugh.

“Margo probably, I hate all of them, Quentin our revenge is going to need to be fierce. I’m talking epic. Margo is going to feel the burn of this for years Q” Eliot said as he dropped to the floor on his knees and Quentin crawled across the floor to him so Eliot could wrap his arms around Quentin’s waist. They swayed together to the music, both of them giggling. They swayed until they were standing, staring into each others eyes deeply.

Quentin lost it. Bent over at the waist, laughing uncontrollably, he just lost it. “I’m thinking montage.” he said between gasps. “We pay an illusionist to trap them in a fucking 90’s b movie sci-fi montage. Starting with Starship Troopers.”

Eliot joined in the laughter, sitting on the dance floor as “Baby, Ohhh baby, you’re the one.” Echoed around the room and Margo ascended the stairs, interrupting them. Eliot glared furiously. 

“Bambi, I am going to murder you.” Eliot said imperiously from his sitting position on the floor. 

Quentin was still sprawled out, laughing hysterically. 

Margo shrugged completely unconcerned. “Don’t lie bitch, you both had fun.” With that the illusion dispersed and they were in Eliot’s room in Indiana. “Anyway, just came to tell you that we’re helping your brother out with some stuff out back, but we’ll be ready to leave in like an hour. Get your shit together.” Not waiting for a response from them, she turned and left.

Eliot looked at Quentin giggling on the floor and drew in a deep breath. Fuck it he thought. He crawled over his bedroom floor until he was straddling Quentin’s smaller body. Hands by his head, knees bracketing his waist he leaned down and placed a kiss on Quentin’s throat. Q stopped giggling. Eliot kissed his jaw, kissed his cheek, and kissed his mouth. 

Quentin slid his hand into Eliot’s hair, and pulled him closer, kissed him harder. Eliot pulled back and smiled. “You know I’m in love with you right?” he asked, this close he could see the blush warm Quentin’s skin. He could see the crinkling of his eyes as he smiled at Eliot’s not quite confession.

“I suspected. We making this officially official?” Quentin asked softly.

Eliot grinned, kissed him lightly, “Yeah baby, we are. It’s what I want, if that’s what you want.” Eliot dived in then, not holding back, and more than a little furious with himself that he’d put all these barriers between them out of a fear of not being what Quentin needed.

Quentin laughed pulling Eliot fully on top of him, “Yes it’s what I want. I love you too.” Quentin said it simply, breathlessly, and so fucking fond, Eliot had slide both of his hands into Quentin’s hair. Grip it tightly, and say fiercely “You drive me fucking crazy Q.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you hadn’t been hoisting yourself on your own petard, we could have been here a little sooner.”Quentin murmured with a slow smirk, and pushed Eliot over until he was on his back and Quentin was straddling him. “In fact I think you owe me for every single hard on I had to take care of myself since you healed.”

Eliot grinned lasciviously, “Oh is that right.” He ran his hands up Quentin’s sides, and sucked in a breath when Q threw his head back and ground his hips down on Eliot looking for friction. Eliot would give him all the friction he wanted. 

Quentin dropped down and kissed the hell out of Eliot, pulling back on a slow breath, he grinned wickedly. “I think we have about an hour for you to make it up to me, you up for it?” He challenged. 

Eliot groaned and pushed a giggling Quentin to the bed. He had no idea how things were going to work out with his family, he couldn’t predict if this was going to put him in a better or worse place, but he knew with complete conviction that acknowledging what he had with Quentin was real, would be what they both deserved. This was exactly where he belonged, and working at happiness sounded like a fucking fabulous quest for them to embark on.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and Kudos are always <3'd and appreciated.  
>  [Twitter @Doomkitty251](https://twitter.com/doomkitty25)  
> [Tumblr @unresolvednothing](https://unresolvednothing.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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